


A Deep Connection

by akh



Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Major character non-death, mentions of David/Vicky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2019-08-02 02:37:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 53,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16296662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akh/pseuds/akh
Summary: “So you don’t blame me?” he asks.“For failing to outrun an explosion? No,” Julia replies. “For trying to work things out with your wife?” She pauses. “Also no.”A story that picks up several months after the ending of season 1, in which everything was the same except Julia never died or faked her death. She was just severely injured and thus out of action while the second half of the season happened.





	1. Lavender inbound

**Author's Note:**

> So I thought I'd try my hand at writing these two and I wanted to play with the idea of Julia being alive, not through any methods of faking her death and disappearing off the face of the Earth for a while, but simply by having been badly injured and then eventually returning to work after the dust had settled. My knowledge of British politics and the Metropolitan police is very limited and I'm not going to bet on the odds of David ever actually being re-instated as Julia's PPO if she were alive, but for the sake of the story, let's imagine that's exactly what happens.
> 
> The title is inspired by this line in the script from episode 3: _Julia glances towards David during this section of her speech[...]David returns her look. A deep connection passes between them briefly._

“PS Budd.” She extends her hand as she walks up to him by the lift. Her voice is measured, almost cool as she pronounces his name and title, but he doesn’t question it when he takes the offered hand and returns the greeting.

“Ma’am.”

Something in her eyes shifts at the sound of his voice but she keeps her otherwise cool demeanour, giving away neither particular pleasure nor displeasure at seeing him.

“I’m glad to see you looking so well, ma’am,” David continues. He keeps his tone formal but lets his eyes bore into hers, willing her to see how truly glad he is.

She nods and then thanks him, her tone a little warmer but still detached enough to sound perfectly professional. It’s a start.

Considering he hasn’t seen her in person since the moment he had been separated from her at the hospital following the incident, so many months ago now, it could even be considered a _good_ start.

They hadn’t let him anywhere near her, for obvious reasons, as long as he had remained a person of interest and later, of course, the main suspect. By the time his name had been cleared, she had been moved to another, unknown location to recuperate. 

All he had been told was that she was recovering as well as could be expected but that she would not be receiving guests. Whether it had been by her own desire or by that of the people looking to take advantage of her period of weakness, he had never been able to find out. As far as he knew, though, Roger Penhaligon had never been far from her side until she had been strong enough to kick him out herself.

That had been many months ago now. During Julia’s absence, David had started and made progress with his own therapy, even starting to patch things up with his family. His professional conduct had been evaluated and found, if not impeccable, at least good enough to return to work after receiving a vote of confidence from his therapist. He had started part-time, but his conduct and continued good reports from his therapist had soon enough earned him back his former, full-time position, with the caveat that he would continue to attend therapy until otherwise agreed upon.

Julia’s leave of absence had been shorter than his, but apart from the media circus that had followed her return, she had not done much to rock the boat since taking back her position, at least as far as David had been able to gather from the news. Of course, what she had been up to behind closed doors, was anybody’s guess.

She’d had a new bodyguard, too, of course. A tall, grave-looking man that David had rather irrationally disliked from the moment he had first seen him hovering behind her in some news reel. Apparently the man had fairly recently been transferred elsewhere, however, and after some shuffling to find a new permanent PPO experienced enough for the challenging position, David found himself in the basement garage of the Home Office, about to step into the lift and ride up to Julia’s office with her as his principal once again.

David had wondered if this assignment had been by Julia’s request, but the reason he had been given was that they were simply short-staffed after a number of recent resignations following the reveal of the police link to the assassination attempts. David’s prior knowledge of the Home Secretary’s office and home, and the various routes available between the two key locations, had weighed in heavily on the decision to reinstate him in his former position despite some misgivings David’s new boss had expressed on assigning him the principal he had previously failed to protect. It was not that he was held accountable for that failure anymore, but such a high stakes position so soon after returning from his own leave of absence was not what anyone, apart from David himself, would likely have found ideal.

David knew there had also been whispers of a less than professional relationship between him and his principal during their short time together, but he had denied the allegations during his evaluation, confident that whatever the Secret Service had found out through their owns methods would not likely be shared with his people. Subsequently, no proof of their affair had been produced, and the whispers had died down long before his return to active duty. If anybody had asked Julia, it seemed clear she had given away nothing.

“Lavender inbound,” David announces into his earpiece now as they approach the floor of Julia’s office. Two words he had not expected to speak together ever again.

There is much more that could and should be said but the time they have together in the lift seems too short to even begin contemplating where to start. The alternative, David notes as he stares at the doors of the lift in front of him, is to remain silent.

He throws a sideways glance at Julia just before the doors open, and she meets his gaze briefly before stepping out of the lift, leaving David none the wiser about what might be going through her mind.

****

The same silence prevails throughout the day even as they ease into the familiar steps of their respective positions. A cabinet meeting in the early afternoon, a late lunch afterwards, just as Julia appears close to passing out from lack of nourishment, then back to the office again - cars, lifts, corridors, never more than two steps between them when they are on the move.

By the time David escorts Julia to her vehicle for the journey home, he can tell she is exhausted. She bears no obvious, outward signs of her brush with death several months before, but upon careful observation throughout the day, David has come to the conclusion she is still silently recovering - not quite at her full strength despite careful efforts made to disguise any fatigue or possible pain.

In the car, David recommends a route that he deems the best compromise between fast and safe, given that the present threat level has been lowered from severe to moderate. There is no question that Julia’s safety is always going to be his first priority, but the need to get her home to rest as soon as possible is currently not lagging far behind.

Julia meets his eyes briefly in the rearview mirror as he tells the driver which way to go, but she says nothing to oppose his plan. Instead, she turns her eyes back to the documents she has produced from her ministerial box and starts to read. A clear signal that she expects no conversation during the ride home.

Once at the Overstrand Mansions, David enters the apartment first and, as he closes the door behind the two of them, bids Julia to wait as he completes his tour of the rooms.

A few minutes later, he returns to the foyer.

“All clear, ma’am,” he says.

Julia nods, then looks at David, a tired smile finally melting the almost rigid look she has worn all day. David relaxes a little at this long awaited sign of familiarity.

“David…” she says, shrugging off her coat.

“Ma’am,” he replies, still not quite certain how much familiarity he is allowed.

“I have a name,” she sighs simply, as if to answer his unspoken question, and then walks past him further into the hall. Her movements now that nobody else is looking appear more restrained than before, as if she is finally allowing herself to feel the pain she has been keeping at bay all day.

“Julia,” David says a little uncertainly, wishing there was something he could offer to do for her comfort, but feeling at a loss as to where exactly the two of them stand.

She casts him another look and then releases a breath, her shoulders visibly relaxing.

“Do you want to come in?” she asks after a beat, tentative. “I promise I won’t keep you long,” she adds quickly before David can reply.

“As long as you wish, ma’am,” David replies readily. “Julia,” he corrects in the same breath.

He follows Julia into the kitchen where she pours herself half a glass of wine and he absentmindedly accepts a soft drink for himself. Then they make their way to the living room, sitting down on the two sofas facing each other.

“I hear I should congratulate you,” Julia says as she takes her seat. Her tone appears to be aiming for light, but the smile accompanying her words looks just a touch too strained to sell the appearance.

It takes David a moment to figure out what he is being congratulated for.

“Aye, it’s good to be back to work,” he says eventually, deciding that must be it.

Julia takes a sip of her drink.

“That’s not what I meant,” she then says, looking down at the red liquid swirling in her glass. “I hear you and Mrs. Budd…” she trails off, lifting her eyes to David, allowing his mind to work out the rest of the sentence.

He clears his throat, suddenly feeling hot under his collar. He’s not sure how Julia knows, but he isn’t exactly surprised.

“We are...trying,” he says haltingly, finding it difficult to talk about Vicky when Julia is sitting right in front of him. “After I started therapy, things have been….”

“Good,” Julia interrupts him curtly. ”I’m glad.” She smiles a tight smile and takes another sip of her wine.

There’s a pregnant pause and then she continues in a measured tone: “Obviously what I said before the...explosion...that was then. The circumstances were different.” She looks at David over the rim of her wine glass. “I just need to know if this is going to be a problem.”

“Julia…” David starts. If he lets himself, he can still feel the warm pressure of her fingers on his hand, can still see the earnest look in her eyes when she told him she wanted him right beside her - a sign of trust and affection he had felt undeserving of after what he had done to her the night before. It had meant more to him than he had ever been able to express in words.

“I had thought it might be best if we no longer work together, given all the...extra luggage,” Julia continues matter of factly, as if going through mandatory items on a particularly dull meeting agenda. It’s enough to bring David crashing to the present. “But I was told you were the best man they had to offer for my protection at present and I could hardly argue against that.”

There is none of that same affection in her voice now. No hand reaching out to capture his. And, of course, why would there be?

“I’m sure they would understand, given what happened, if you told them you would prefer to have someone...anyone else as your PPO, qualified or not,” David says, unable to hide the hint of bitterness from seeping into his voice even as he knows he has no right to it. Despite having been briefed differently, he had hoped he was here because it was what Julia had wanted. Knowing now that it is not the case, makes him feel irrationally rejected, despite the fact that he has absolutely no business expecting to be wanted by Julia in any capacity.

Julia tilts her head, seemingly intrigued by David’s reaction.

“Now, wouldn’t that be a lie?” she asks after a beat, her tone probing and just a touch softer than it has been all day.

David looks at her, eyebrows raised in question.

“Would it?” He suddenly needs to hear her say it. He needs to hear from her that she doesn’t blame him.

In the months that have passed, he has been absolved of all suspicions of neglect or wrong-doing by everyone except the one person whose absolution truly matters to him.

Julia lets out a sigh, sets her wine glass on the table between them.

“You are the most officious, capable PPO I’ve had since I entered politics,” she says with a touch of annoyance, as if it’s costing her something to admit it. Then she pauses, a wry smile lifting the corners of her lips. “Few have gone to the same lengths to serve me.”

David’s mouth twitches at the memory of some of the services he knows she is referring to.

“Few?” he asks. Suddenly, he finds himself thinking of that tall, dark, and handsome man who has been with her for the last couple of months.

Julia rolls her eyes and then fixes them at David.

“Fine,” she concedes.”None have.”

David absorbs the information, unwilling to examine further why he feels pleased by Julia’s admission. Then his face turns serious again.

“So you don’t blame me?” he asks.

“For failing to outrun an explosion? No,” Julia replies. “For trying to work things out with your wife?” She pauses. “Also no.”

David feels his shoulders relax.There’s a level of awkwardness in the silence that follows and he clocks on to it but doesn’t quite know how to break it. 

“But obviously things can’t go on as they did,” Julia says at last.

“Of course,” David is quick to agree because he knows it is the right thing to say and certainly the right thing to feel. There’s no use pausing to even consider what he might actually think or feel.

“I’m sure we can be adults about it,” she continues, barely pausing to listen to David’s reply. “You do your job. I do mine. It’s all just work at the end of the day.” As she speaks, she starts getting up from the sofa, wincing slightly as she places her weight on her right leg.

David is on his feet before she can take another step, offering her his hand for support.

She looks down at his outstretched hand but does not take it. “I’m fine,” she insists, taking a moment to catch her breath.

David doesn’t budge.

“You don’t have to be,” he reminds her.

Julia glances up at him and smiles wanly.

“Oh but I do,” she says tiredly before turning away.

 _“I’m not the queen. You’re allowed to touch me.”_ Her words from what feels like a lifetime ago float through David’s head as he watches Julia determinedly walk from out of his reach and he finds himself wishing he could close her in his embrace now as he had done then, barely knowing what he was doing but not letting it stop him.

He could follow her now. He very nearly does, but lets her go because he can recognise a clear dismissal when he sees one.

“Anything I can do for you, ma’am, before I go?” he asks instead, re-enforcing the invisible barrier Julia has just placed between them by accepting the role he has been left with.

He registers the slight surprise on Julia’s face as she hears the formal tone of his voice, almost as if she cannot believe he has accepted her dismissal so easily.

As if she doesn’t know he is always and completely at her command.

There is no sign of triumph on her face, though, as she regards David from across the room.

She opens her mouth as if to say something but then closes it, shakes her head slightly.

“I believe the support vehicle is waiting,” she says before turning to go. “Good night.”

“Good night, ma’am,” David replies. He stands still a moment longer, watching her disappear into the bedroom. Then he turns on his heels and stalks out of the apartment.


	2. Not completely useless in the kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely feedback so far. The next chapter might take a little longer to post because I'll be traveling for a while, but I hope to have another chapter ready soon after I return.

Over the next few days and weeks, they fall into a rhythm that could almost be described as comfortable, at least by anyone watching from outside. Out in public, they work together like a well-oiled machine, always moving in sync from one place to another as if performing a perfectly mastered choreography.

Every night, as David conducts his sweep of Julia’s apartment, they continue the same dance in private, almost as if they were still in public, a few perfunctory words often the only soundtrack to their routine.

It’s better that way, David tells himself as he heads home to Vicky and the children every night. It’s better because he knows if Julia gave him a reason to, he might find it difficult not to stay longer than he should, and be home even later than his schedule already dictates. He doesn’t want to think why that is, but he knows it to be true. He knows he misses her in ways he cannot reasonably quantify - that certain charm she has despite all her faults. He misses the dry comments and the sarcastic quips, mixed with glimpses of a warmer, more human side that she so often keeps hidden.

He misses her conversation, the cadence of her voice as she talks, the topics she chooses that have nothing to do with school runs or football practice or what someone said on Gogglebox two nights ago. He misses the way her skin…

“David?” Julia’s voice breaks through his wandering thoughts. “Is something the matter?”

David realises he has been staring out of the window for much longer than necessary and as he turns around, he finds Julia standing in the middle of the room, her face a mixture of annoyance and concern.

“You should wait until I’ve gone through all the rooms,” he avoids the question.

“Not likely if you’re going to spend hours admiring the scenery,” she huffs. 

David’s lips quirk.

“Minutes, ma’am,” he replies. “Your safety is my prime concern.”

“I should bloody hope so, for the amount of standing around you make me do,” Julia retorts, but there’s no bite in her words. For the first time in weeks, she actually smiles at David in a way that feels completely natural.

“Well?” she asks then, checking herself. “Anything I should be concerned about?”

“No, ma’am,” David replies, stepping away from the window. This is the part where he should announce that everything appears to be in order, tell her he’ll be on his way, but he feels reluctant to break whatever this moment is. This repartee, as inane as it ultimately is, has been one of the most natural exchanges they have shared since being thrown together again.

Julia, too, appears to be considering her next words carefully.

“It’s been a long day,” she says at last, starting to move towards the kitchen. “I’m going to need some coffee before I get to more work.”

It’s not exactly an invitation, but nor does it feel like a complete dismissal. David watches her go and then follows her to the kitchen.

“I could do that,” he offers tentatively, hoping he hasn’t misread her.

Julia looks up at him, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. “Kettles still a safety concern?”

“Always,” David replies seriously, reaching for the kettle before Julia can get to it.

She doesn’t protest, opting to lean against the counter as she watches David move about the kitchen. Apart from a slight wince as she settles back, her movements seem fairly effortless tonight, a sign that the physical therapy she’s still attending every week, work schedule permitting, might be paying off.

David can feel Julia’s eyes on him as he lets the water run, wondering if she is expecting him to make enough for two.

He decides to fill the whole kettle just to be safe.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much to go with it,” Julia says as she observes the amount of water going into the kettle. Enough for more than two.

“Except your company,” David says before he catches himself. He glances at Julia to see if he has been out of line, but finds her face hard to read.

“You shouldn’t say that,” she says after a beat. Then she straightens her back, giving up the support of the counter. “In fact, this is probably not a good idea.”

David pauses. He knows she is not wrong. If he leaves now he could still see the kids to bed, but also, if he leaves now, he is afraid Julia will withdraw again and they will go back to being barely more than strangers to one another.

“It’s just coffee, Julia,” he says at last. “Ma’am,” he corrects himself, not quite sure how he is supposed to address her now. Out in public, it’s always _ma’am_. Here, alone, they’ve barely spoken in weeks.

Julia sighs, allowing her shoulders to relax again, deciding, perhaps, that she has overreacted. It _is_ just coffee, after all.

“You know you can call me Julia here,” she says, leaning back against the kitchen counter. She looks at David for moment, weighing her next words. “I just don’t want to make this complicated,” she starts, all politician again. “You have a wife and a family. I’m just your job.”

David sets down the kettle, takes a step forward.

“Aye, I have a wife and children, and I love them,” he says, and then pauses. “But you are more than just a job, Julia.”

He wants to say she is a friend but realises how absurd it would sound. In the short time they knew each other before everything quite literally blew up, they had probably exchanged more bodily fluids than actual words with each other, or as near as.

“Just a piece of work, then?” Julia offers dryly, causing David to chortle.

“Not quite what I meant,” he says, reigning in his amusement.

“I should hope so,” Julia replies, the corners of her mouth quirking.

The silence that follows is charged, like all their silences, but not uncomfortable. 

A beat passes and then David picks up the kettle again, returning to the task he had momentarily abandoned.

Julia watches him for a moment without saying a word.

“Are you one of those men who are good in the kitchen?” she then suddenly asks, a non-sequitur that seems to come out of nowhere, but David assumes it’s simply her attempt to change the subject.

He pauses to consider but doesn’t turn to look at Julia. His lips twist into almost a smile. “Would you say I am?” he asks.

Julia hums in response, giving herself time to think it over.

“Well, it hardly takes a genius to make coffee,” she decides eventually. “But you do make it look quite effortless,” she concedes after a beat.

“Well, I have had some time in my hands recently.” David can no longer resist turning around. There’s not much else to do now while waiting for the water to boil and he would rather look at Julia than the kettle.

He does so just in time to catch her looking somewhat startled.

“Oh, I’m…” she starts uncertainly. They haven’t really talked of David’s leave of absence before and he can see from Julia’s expression now that she hadn’t meant to tread there this time either. He can understand why. The subject is personal, and personal appears to be something they are not doing.

Except that now they are.

“No, it’s fine,” he assures her quickly. “Turns out children really like to eat, but only two or three specific types of food.” He pauses, waits for Julia to pick up.

She does so with admirable alacrity.

“Ah, no _coq au vin_ then?” she says, feigning disappointment.

“‘fraid not,” Daivd replies. “I can do a mean spaghetti and meatballs, though. Or bangers and mash.”

Julia, no longer feigning anything, looks suitably unimpressed.

“Let’s leave that to another time, shall we,” she says, scrunching her nose in apparent distaste. 

David shrugs, fighting back a smile as he tries to picture Julia tackling a plate of spaghetti and meatballs á la Budd. 

“Suit yourself, ma’am,” he quips as he turns back to finish preparing the coffee. Within minutes, he has managed to produce two steaming hot cups, with a considerable amount still left over.

“Black and no sugar, right?” he asks as he offers Julia her cup.

She nods, a little surprised that he has retained this information. “Yes, thank you.” She takes the cup and circles both of her hands around the warm surface, taking a moment to simply breathe in the aroma.

Meanwhile, David takes a quick sip of his, making sure it tastes as it should. His eyes meet Julia’s over the rim of his cup and he holds her gaze for a moment.

It feels nice...this, whatever this is.

Their relationship before, such as it was, had never been based on much talking. Even now they aren’t exactly saying much of any importance, but at least they are speaking, and it’s far from unpleasant.

It feels like talking to an adult, and it’s something, David fleetingly acknowledges, he doesn’t always feel when talking with Vicky - her life experience so vastly different from his own.

“Good?” David asks, pushing that thought aside as he watches Julia bring the cup to her lips.

She takes a small sip and then lowers the cup again.

“Hot,” she replies and then looks at David before amending her statement: “but good, yes.”

“Not completely useless in the kitchen, then,” he says with a hint of triumph in his voice.

“Don’t let it go to your head, sargent,” Julia retorts, half-smiling as she takes another sip of the hot liquid. “Cockiness doesn’t suit you.”

David raises his eyebrows. “Noted, ma’am.”

They fall silent for a moment and David tries to look at anything other than Julia as he lets his coffee cool down, not actually that keen on drinking it this late, but it’s hard not to be aware of her presence wherever he tries to turn his eyes.

Eventually, they land on her face just as her gaze moves up from the kitchen counter to meet his.

They both start to speak at the same moment:

“Um...it’s getting-”

“I should be-”

They both stop.

“You go first,” David offers, already knowing what she is about to say. He has overstayed his welcome.

“I should get back to work,” she confirms his guess. “And you,” she continues with a pointed look, “should be heading home.”

David bows his head. “Aye, I should,” he agrees, feeling a pang of guilt but not quite sure whether it is for having stayed so long or for not being able to regret that he has. The children will certainly be asleep by the time he gets home, and Vicky might be too, knowing she has an early shift tomorrow.

He sets down his cup, still nearly full, and starts making his way out of the kitchen. He nearly opens his mouth to tell Julia not to work too late but then thinks better of it, knowing it’s not his place to interfere.

A friend might have the right to do so, but that’s not really what they are.

“Thank you,” Julia’s voice suddenly stops him. “For the coffee,” she adds, lifting her cup slightly.

“It was nothing.” David pauses in the doorway, turning back to look at Julia again, standing half in shadow in the dimly lit kitchen, almost like a living image of what she has always been to him: a mystifying mixture of light that he is drawn to and a darkness he can’t penetrate.

Standing there alone, now, she looks at a first glance statuesque and untouchable, like the queen she professes not to be, and yet, the longer David’s eyes linger on her, the more he sees the softness and vulnerability that the light reveals as it touches her features.

“Something on my face?” Julia asks, raising an eyebrow.

David shakes his head slowly. He almost smiles as he lets himself imagine how she would react if she knew his thoughts.

“Just the light, ma’am,” he finally replies.

Julia frowns in confusion and then rolls her eyes, deciding she probably doesn’t need to understand.

“One decent cup of coffee and he thinks he’s a poet,” she mutters, turning off the lamp in the kitchen as she starts moving towards the study.

The words are loud enough for David to know they are meant to be heard. He is less certain about the smile tugging at her lips that he almost misses as she turns away.


	3. Below the pay grade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken longer than anticipated. I've had the bulk of the chapter written for some time but it took me a while to get into the shape I wanted. I hope you enjoy. :)

Despite the long hours during the week, one of the perks of David’s position is that he isn’t usually required to work on weekends except when Julia has a public appearance scheduled. Normally on Saturdays and Sundays, on her so called days off, her safety is left to the care of lower ranking officers.

For David to be called in during the weekend is rare and, as he greets the armed guard outside and steps in to ring the doorbell of Julia’s apartment, he is not altogether sure what kind of reaction to expect from Julia.

After all, she has no public engagements scheduled, and they had wished each other good weekend only twelve hours before.

A few beats pass and then he hears hurried footsteps from inside, followed soon by the turning of the lock. He can hear Julia’s voice before he sees her face.

“You’re early, PC...” she starts to scold but the words fade out as the door opens fully and her eyes land on David. The annoyed look on her face quickly gives way to surprise.

“David?” she breathes, clearly caught off guard. For a moment she gapes at him openly, but then seems to recollect herself as she coolly brushes a hand through her hair and schools her expression. “What happened to PC Jones?” she asks in her usual, measured tone.

David’s eyes scan Julia briefly, taking in her appearance that is a little more casual than he is used to - a pair of jeans paired with a tucked in, button down shirt and a light cardigan hanging loosely over her shoulders. It is still designer clothing from head to toe, but in less formal style. It suits her well.

“She...called in sick,” David replies absently before forcing his eyes to return to Julia’s face. “I happened to be available.”

Julia accepts the information with a nod of her head and a moment passes between them in awkward silence.

“Right,” she says at last, offering him a tight smile. Another beat passes as she appears to be assessing her options and then she finally opens the door wider, motioning for David to step inside with a tilt of her head.

“I’m sorry I’m early,” David decides on a neutral topic as he closes the door behind him, picking up on what Julia had originally started with. “I was briefed on the time of your appointment but was not given an exact pick-up time. I thought it better to be early than late.”

In fact, his orders had been chiefly condensed into the short text message he had woken up to in the morning: _Lavender physical therapy. 10 am. PC Jones sick. Call back if able to cover._

“It doesn’t matter now,” Julia replies, waving her hand dismissively. With her other hand, she picks up her phone, impatiently taps open the list of her saved contacts, and starts scrolling.

David can tell from the tone of her voice and the set of her jaw that she is annoyed, but he is less certain whether that annoyance is because of him or on his behalf. Either way, he judges it best not to interrupt her, allowing himself to simply let his eyes rest on her for a moment instead.

“They shouldn’t have dragged you in on a Saturday,” Julia huffs after a brief silence as she continues to scroll through her apparently endless list of contacts. She glances quickly at David, her expression softening a little. “I’m sure you have better things to do at home, with your family.”

“Well…” David starts, not quite sure how to respond, but Julia isn’t waiting for him to speak.

“I’ll have them send someone else,” she continues almost in the same breath, eyes back on the screen.

David shakes his head. In truth, if he is being honest with himself, he is rather glad to have received the message from his boss in the morning. The alternative at home would have been a family visit to Vicky’s parents who, despite David’s best efforts to prove himself a changed man, still think of him as a less than desirable partner for their daughter. It doesn’t help that, despite the progress he has made in therapy, he still often thinks they are right.

None of that, however, could possibly be of any interest to Julia.

“I’m already here,” he simply points out instead. “Waiting for a replacement would only make you late.”

When his words still don’t seem to have any impact, David finally steps forward. He waits for a moment for Julia to look up, but when she doesn’t, he reaches out and, after a brief hesitation, places his hand over hers on the side of the phone she is holding.

At the touch of his skin, Julia’s eyes immediately dart from the screen of her phone to David’s hand and then briefly his face before returning to the screen, no longer focused on its content.

“Really, Julia,” he insists now that he knows he has her attention. “It’s not a problem.”

He sees Julia’s eyes move to their joined hands again, a myriad of possible responses and rebukes undoubtedly running through her mind.

“But you’ve already worked all week,” is all she says at last, the argument coming out unexpectedly feeble. She allows the contact of their hands to last a moment longer and then lowers her phone, relinquishing David’s touch as her arm falls to her side. She glances at David again and then quickly walks out of the foyer.

He gives her a moment’s head start and then follows her into the apartment.

She is neither in the living room nor the kitchen, but David soon finds Julia in the bedroom, busying herself over an open duffel bag that seems to be packed for the purpose of her upcoming session of physical therapy. David notes this is probably what his early arrival had interrupted.

When Julia hears David’s footsteps, she straightens her back but doesn’t turn to face him.

“You do know that taking me in and out of PT should be below your pay grade,” she tries one more time, her tone sharp again. “It’s got nothing to do with official government business.”

David pauses in the middle of the room, allowing Julia the physical distance she apparently prefers. He wonders if that is the problem - that this is a personal appointment and she has decided that they don’t have a personal relationship. 

“I’m your PPO,” he points out simply. “No task related to your safety is below my pay grade.”

A beat passes as Julia takes in his words, the set of her shoulders slowly relaxing. “Well, it’s your free time,” she says at last as she bends down to zip her bag. “Obviously you can do whatever you want with it.”

She’s about to lift the bag and fling it over her shoulder when David quickly steps forward and grabs the handle.

“I can take that,” he says, hand pausing on the handle as he waits for Julia to let go of it.

She looks momentarily annoyed by the sudden intrusion. David can almost _hear_ her glare telling him she can carry her own bag, but then she releases a breath and lets go of the handle.

“Fine,” she says curtly, leaving David standing with the bag as she strides across the room. By the doorway she pauses, tilting her head to the side as she turns to David again. “Are you coming or not, Budd?”

 

***

The ride to the facility where Julia attends her physical therapy is not very long and it passes in silence as David uses the time to further acquaint himself with the layout of the building they are about to enter. It has been part of Julia’s weekend schedule since before David’s reappointment, but this is the first time he has been charged with escorting her there himself. He has seen the blueprints of the location before when reviewing the general risk assessment, but he still wants to make sure he hasn’t missed anything crucial now that the responsibility of getting Julia in and out of there safely rests on his shoulders.

By the time they reach the target, David feels reasonably secure in his knowledge of the building and he escorts Julia in with his usual efficiency.

Their arrival is already expected, so he takes her straight to the changing room and, after securing the space, ushers Julia in and then lingers by the door.

Julia gives him an expectant look.

“Shouldn’t you be on the other side of that door?” she asks with a raised eyebrow when David makes no effort to move.

“There are two entrances to this room, ma’am,” he replies. “I cannot effectively guard both entrances from outside.”

Julia glances at the second door at the other end of the room and then shrugs. “Alright,” she agrees coolly, without argument, as she takes off her coat. “It’s your call.”

David frowns. “Does PC Jones not stay inside while you change, ma’am?”

“ _She_ does,” Julia replies, giving David a sharp look as she puts emphasis on the first word.

David nods. Of course.

Still, he has no intention of leaving Julia alone, nor does she appear to insist that he should.

“Feel free to turn around any time it’s convenient to you,” she says dryly as she starts unbuttoning her shirt in front of him. About halfway down, she looks up and her eyes lock with David’s, her fingers still continuing to move on the buttons.

At another time, this might have been an invitation to play. Now, it feels more like a challenge - a game of who will budge first. For a moment, David considers seeing it through - wondering how far Julia would go if he doesn’t turn away - but then he reminds himself that this is a game with everything to lose and nothing to win. There cannot be any price waiting for either of them at the end.

He watches Julia slowly undo one more button and then casts his eyes firmly to the floor before turning around to face the wall, still acutely aware of every move, every sound, coming from behind his back. He can hear Julia release a breath and then turn around, too, no words uttered to mark her hollow victory.

After a few moments of hearing nothing but the rustling of clothes, all the movement behind David seems to come to a halt. 

“Do you know I have scars now, too?” Julia’s voice suddenly breaks the silence. There’s an attempt at nonchalance in her tone, but it all falls quite flat in execution.

The unexpected declaration startles David. He almost turns to look, but then checks his impulse and steadfastly fixes his eyes on the wall ahead. By his estimation, based on the items of clothing he has counted coming off, Julia must be standing behind him now in nothing but her underwear.

He hadn’t known for sure, of course, but he had certainly considered it a very likely consequence of what had happened. Ever since he had first seen her in the news following her first public appearance after the incident, he had marveled at how her face had seemed to suffer no visible consequence of her near death experience. Considering the severity of her injuries, however, it had seemed impossible to him that she could have escaped without any scars elsewhere.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a beat, bowing his head down. He can hear Julia moving again, rustling in her bag for the outfit she had packed for PT.

“Do they hurt?” he asks when she says nothing.

Julia pauses again.

“Less and less,” she says finally. “Sometimes more.” And then David can hear the soft rustle of clothing again.

“It will get better,” David tells her, pulling on his entire reserve of self control to remain fixed on his spot, eyes on the wall. He feels he ought to see the full extent of what his failure has cost Julia, but even above his guilt he recognises a greater, more unsettling desire to simply run his fingers across her skin, the burned parts as well as the smooth ones, and assure her that none of it matters - that it’s all the same to him.

He waits with bated breath for Julia to say something more but all he can hear is the sound of her movements as she continues to dress. A few more beats pass in complete silence and when Julia finally speaks, it is only to tell David she is ready.

He turns immediately at her command, eyes instinctively scanning her body from head to toe for signs of injury as if her skin isn’t almost completely covered again, this time with a pair of tights, a tank top and a large sweater covering most of her upper half. It’s another look he had never expected to see on Julia, and another one that seems to fit her perfectly.

When David’s eyes return to Julia’s face, however, he is taken aback by the unguarded, almost vulnerable look he meets in her eyes.

“It _will_ get better,” he repeats empathetically, stepping a little closer. He starts to lift his hand but stills it mid-air, giving Julia the opportunity to either stop him or step away if she chooses. When she remains still, he continues to move his hand up, catching an errant lock of hair that has fallen over her left eye. He smooths it with his fingers and then tucks it gently behind her ear where it belongs, his eyes never leaving hers.

For a passing moment he is painfully aware of how easy it would be to continue the movement - to slide his hand down Julia’s jaw, to cup her chin and lean closer until his lips were touching hers. If he had only his own impulse to follow...

David tries to think of Vicky and how very wrong it is to be even thinking of kissing another woman, but it is almost as if everything else exists outside of a bubble when he is in Julia’s presence, distorted and abstract. 

It is an unsettling thought.

“David…” Julia’s voice calls him back to the present, gentle but firm. A look of something softer still lingers in her eyes as she looks at David, but the expression on her face shows that she has managed to conquer whatever moment of inner turmoil she had allowed him a glimpse of.

David realises his hand is still lingering in the air, hovering near the side of her face, caught in indecision. He lets it fall down to his side as he stands to attention.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he says with all the formality he can muster.

Julia shakes her head, eyes cast down. “No, don’t…” she starts. She looks at the floor for a moment and then seems to collect herself, looking up to meet David’s eyes. “Don’t apologise,” she says sincerely, holding his gaze.

To David’s ears, it sounds almost like a thank you and he accepts it with a quiet nod of his head.

After a while, Julia clears her throat and reaches forward to give David’s arm a light brush as she offers him a wry smile. “I’m sure that lock of hair blocking my vision was a serious risk you had to eliminate.”

David’s mouth curves and he allows his shoulders to relax, following Julia’s lead. “Can’t have you taking a tumble and knocking yourself out, ma’am.”

“As I was prone to do before you came along,” Julia retorts, any tension left in the air quickly dissipating between them.

“I hope you don’t plan to follow me to the actual session,” she says as they begin walking towards the door in good cheer.

“Just the one door in that room, ma’am,” David replies without missing a beat, his hand grazing the small of her back as he ushers her through. “I can step outside after I have inspected the room.”

“Excellent,” Julia replies, striding forward to assume her position two steps ahead of David.

“Lunch after?” she asks before they reach the end of the corridor.

David doesn’t even pause to consider.

“Aye, ma’am.”


	4. Fish and chips

It has been an exhausting day. One meeting after another, most of them in different locations, with traffic jams around the city making sure that they have been running late almost from the start. Julia’s mood has been growing progressively worse throughout the day and her aides have had to bear the brunt of it. David has received his share of dirty looks, mostly if he has chosen a detour or otherwise detained her in any way in the name of her safety, but she hasn’t outright rebelled against any of his decisions. In fact, she rarely does, showing David her trust in the simplest possible way of allowing him to do his job - something he quietly appreciates.

Despite the day going smoothly from his perspective, however, by the time Julia staggers out of her last obligation of the day, even David feels tired. He can only imagine how exhausted Julia must be.

“Ma’am,” he greets her by the door, unable to do more than press his hand against her back as he ushers her towards the car, using the simple gesture to let her know that he is here if she needs him for support.

She doesn’t, of course.

He can feel Julia’s muscles tense under the palm of his hand when he initiates the contact, but as they walk on, she gradually eases into his touch. It’s an unspoken rhythm they have settled into over the weeks, a sort of tentative comfort and familiarity within the boundaries that are ever present, whether they are alone or in a crowd.

Julia says nothing to either accept or rebuke his silent comfort, but from the tired smile she offers him when they reach the car and he opens the door for her, David knows his gesture has not gone unnoticed. He gives her a slight nod in return, the communication complete.

“Home, ma’am’?”

“God, yes,” Julia sighs, her shoulders slumping as she finally allows herself to relax after the long day. “The sooner the better.”

“Aye, ma’am,” David agrees. He looks at Julia and then another thought occurs to him.

It’s not exactly any of his business but he knows she has barely eaten all day.

“And...you have food at home?” he asks a little awkwardly before Julia disappears into the car, well aware, based on previous experience, that she probably doesn’t.

One foot already in, Julia looks at him for a moment as if she is not sure what he’s asking. Then David can see realisation hitting her.

“Shit,” she mutters, biting her lip.

David nods, takes her answer as the ‘no’ he had expected. He quickly goes over the planned route in his mind and tries to think of the safest and fastest option.

“Fish and chips?” he suggests before Julia can say anything.

She tilts her head, considers the suggestion for a moment, looks about to accept it, but then seems to have second thoughts. “It’s already late,” she points out, taking another look at her watch. “I’m keeping you over time. Your kids...”

“It’s nearly 10pm, ma’am,” David cuts her off. “Ella and Charlie will already be asleep either way, ma’am.”

He locks his eyes with Julia’s, hoping she won’t carry the point further by mentioning anyone else who might be waiting. She opens her mouth as if to say something more but then closes it again and glances at the driver who is waiting for both of them in the car.

“Right, then,” she says crisply, avoiding David’s eyes as they both successfully avoid mentioning his wife. “We shouldn’t keep Kevin waiting.”

David lets out a breath as he watches Julia get in the car, then closes the door for her and quickly takes his own seat at the front. He gives Kevin, the driver, a quick run-down of the planned route and where to stop for food pick-up and then settles back in his seat, eyes searching for Julia in the rearview mirror. It doesn’t surprise him to find her already poring over the notes of her last meeting, everything else at least momentarily forgotten.

Against his better judgement, David allows his eyes to linger on her for a moment, quietly taking in all the familiar features of her down-turned face, growing gradually aware of a warmth that spreads inside him as he looks at her. It’s a fondness that feels different from the myriad of other emotions she habitually evokes in him, but he doesn’t allow himself to dwell on it for long.

When Julia eventually looks up from her papers, David quickly withdraws his gaze and fixes his eyes on the road ahead, trying to ignore the warmth that takes much longer to dissipate. He doesn’t look at her again, except for what his duty requires to make sure everything at the backseat remains in order, until they approach the fish and chips joint he has elected.

“Would you like me to go and place the order, ma’am?” he asks as the car slows down, pushing all other thoughts from his head to focus on the present. 

Julia, having returned her attention to her papers, barely looks up. “If you would, please,” she says, the air of indifference in her voice belied only by the sudden tautness of her posture. “Get something for yourself, too, if you’re hungry,” she adds, as if in an after-thought. “It’s been a long day for everyone.”

She pauses and then glances at Kevin in the driver’s seat. “Anything for you?” she asks in the same tone of studied indifference.

“No, thank you, ma’am,” Kevin replies politely as he parks the car according to David’s instructions so that he can have a clear view of the vehicle the whole time he is out. “Got the wife waiting at home with her cooking.”

Julia’s lips form a tight smile.

“How lovely,” she replies and David can feel her eyes on him as he exits the car, cheeks burning as he thinks of his own wife waiting for him at home - perhaps not with food, but waiting nevertheless until she, too, will go to sleep.

As he waits for his order, he types in a quick text. _Sorry, love. Will be late. Don’t wait up. x Dave_

***

They make it to Julia’s apartment within half an hour. David, carrying the food, lays it down on the living room table while Julia waits in the foyer, and then proceeds to conduct his usual sweep of the rooms before giving her the all-clear to join him.

“That looks spectacularly unhealthy,” Julia remarks as she walks over to the table, surveying the greasy helping of cod and fries as she sets her ministerial briefcase down on the floor.

“I think you can risk it, ma’am,” David replies. “Julia,” he corrects himself, reminding himself they are finally alone. “You haven’t eaten since lunch.”

He watches as Julia’s lips quirk at the slip of his tongue and realises this is what he has been waiting all day, and why he would endure any amount of standing around behind closed office doors during the day for that brief moment of time every evening when they can be something else to each other.

He’s not sure what exactly that something else is, or what it even can be, but he knows it’s what makes his job worth the long hours and high stakes, having access to that other side of Julia that most people who work with her never get to see. As these thoughts flow through David’s head, he fixes his eyes on Julia, her back turned to him as she removes her blazer, and wonders what might be going through her mind - knows her well enough to be certain at least that he wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want him to be.

 

“You want anything to drink?” Julia’s voice breaks through David’s thoughts. She hangs her blazer on the back of a chair and then starts walking towards the kitchen, either oblivious or willfully ignoring David’s eyes on her.

He lets his gaze follow her for a moment and then walks after her. “A soda,” he says simply as he leans on the doorframe and watches Julia open the fridge. She takes out two cans and hands the other one to David, raising an eyebrow at his questioning look.

“I don’t always drink wine, you know,” she says, an amused expression playing at her lips as she cracks open her can and takes a sip. “There are glasses in the cupboard if you want one.” She wipes the corner of her mouth, throws a playful look at David and then walks past him into the living room.

Happy with his position for observing, David turns around and watches her walk over to the sofa and take a seat, reaching for her portion as she sits down. She throws David a questioning look, but when he doesn’t budge, she opens the wrapping and takes a bite, then goes to lick the grease off her fingers. Her eyes catch his just as the tip of her tongue darts out to lick her thumb, the air between them suddenly charged again.

She pauses, finger still hovering in front of her mouth as her tongue disappears back into her mouth.

David steps forward. “Julia…” he starts, but then doesn’t quite know how to continue without saying something he should not say.

Julia holds his gaze for a moment and then averts her eyes, picking up a napkin to wipe her fingers.

“The food’s getting cold,” she says after a beat, still not looking at David. “Stop gawking and get over here.”

David finally does as he’s told and takes his seat opposite Julia, his hands nearly grazing hers as he reaches for his portion, their eyes briefly meeting over the table. There’s a sense of déjà vu as he catches her eye and recalls the last time they were here, like this, sharing a cheap dinner after a long day.

Julia doesn’t hold his gaze for long, but her thoughts seem to be on the same track.

“How long has been since we did this?” she asks, absently picking at her food. She takes her time, seemingly not even waiting for a response, and David looks on as she finally selects a large chip and brings it up to her mouth, her lips circling around it as she takes a small bite.

“It has been quite a while,” he replies at last, trying to concentrate on his own meal even as he feels his stomach tighten.

Julia looks up, a little startled by his voice, as if she had suddenly been miles away. “It was after the ghastly almost-dinner with Rob,” she says sharply, then pauses and adds more to herself than to David: “I don’t know what that idiot was thinking.”

David looks at Julia and can see the slight shudder travel through her at the thought of her former advisor. He has no reason to believe she had ever thought much of Rob Macdonald beyond their professional connection. He had, in fact, witnessed her rebuking Rob's advances on more than one occasion, but it is clear his betrayal had still shaken her, and David can easily understand why. Rob’s betrayal, though not designed to take on her life, had unfortunately coincided with that attack, and had been deeply personal in its nature. She might not have welcomed his advances, but she probably had counted him as one of the few people she could rely on in a world where nearly everyone wanted to stab her in the back.

“It’s his loss, not yours,” David says after a short silence and then, without thinking, abandons his seat and crosses over to where Julia is sitting on the sofa.

For a fleeting moment she looks alarmed by his sudden nearness but when David pulls her closer, she doesn’t resist, allowing herself, after a moment, to rest her head on David’s shoulder. They sit like that for some time, neither of them speaking. David, with his arm around Julia’s shoulders, rubs slow circles on her upper arm and can feel her gradually relaxing under his touch. 

“I think you know what he was thinking,” he says at last, staring ahead at the wall across the room. It is what most men looking at Julia would always be thinking.

Julia looks up at him, waiting for him to elaborate. When he doesn’t continue, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

“Oh, I know what he was thinking,” she sighs. “I just don’t know how he could be foolish enough to think that I’d ever…” she lifts her head from David’s shoulder and gestures with her hands, a look of distaste on her face, “I mean...with _him_?”

David tries to suppress a smile, turning to look down at her.

“Can’t blame the guy for trying,” he points out.

Julia’s eyes are drawn to David again but she doesn’t immediately reply. His words hang in the air between them for a beat.

“You never did,” she says at last, settling back against his shoulder. David is not entirely sure whether it is an accusation, commendation, or a simple statement of fact. Perhaps it’s a mixture of all three.

“I like to rely on my natural charm,” he replies after a brief silence.

Julia harrumphs.

“No?” David prompts, a hint of teasing in his tone when she gives no other response. He is aware that he is toeing a fine line but doesn’t see the point of letting that stop him now that he has already trampled on several other lines just to be sitting where he is right now.

Julia hums noncommittally, seemingly lost in thought.

“Politics is full of charming men,” she says at last. “And women,” she adds, pulling away enough to look at David. There is an unexpected seriousness - a far away look in her eyes as she continues. “We charm people for a living, forge meaningless connections just to have more political currency, but you...” her face softens as she trails off, eyes focused on David again. A little hesitantly, she lifts her hand and traces his jaw with the tips of her fingers, her touch light as a feather.

David closes his eyes in anticipation of what might follow, head tilting slightly forward, but instead of feeling Julia’s lips on him as he half expects, he feels only the loss of her touch as she withdraws her hand. When he opens his eyes, he can instantly see the change in Julia - her face closed off, eyes avoiding his. In one swift move, she pushes herself completely away.

“It’s late and I’m talking nonsense,” she says with a forced laugh, reaching for her chips again. She pops one in her mouth and then makes a face. “Well, these have gone cold,” she says, her tone aiming for lightness even as it cracks in the middle.

David gets up slowly, knowing he has been dismissed.

“Do you want me to clear them up?” he asks in a low voice, the whole meal barely touched by either of them. He looks at Julia, hoping she would grant him at least one more glance to assure him everything is fine between them.

Her response doesn’t surprise him.

“You should probably go,” she says, wiping her fingers on her napkin. “I will try to eat a bit more before clearing it up.”

“As you wish, ma’am,” David replies stiffly, unable to hide the hint of bitterness from creeping into his voice. It’s a feeling he knows he has no right to, under the circumstances, but the contrast between the warmth of Julia’s body pressed against his side, and the cold shoulder he is being presented with now, is too sudden not to be felt.

He can see Julia flinch at his formal tone, but if he thinks it might sway her towards regret, he couldn’t be more wrong.

“Good night, Sergeant Budd,” she says after a beat, the cool enunciation of his title feeling like a slap in David’s face.

He turns to leave but pauses by the doorway, looking back at the rigid set of Julia’s shoulders as she sits on the sofa alone, picking on the remains of a lonely dinner.

“Good night...Julia,” he says a little awkwardly.

David watches Julia’s shoulders rise as she takes in a sudden breath, but she doesn’t reply - doesn’t even turn to return his look.

He sighs and lets himself quietly out into the night.


	5. Charmed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the outpouring of lovely feedback. It always means a lot to me. <3 This chapter turned out much longer than the previous ones. If you like long chapters, think of it as an early Christmas present, if not, I hope you can still enjoy the somewhat bumpy journey. Happy holidays to all who celebrate! :)

As a protection officer David likes routine, because anything that deviates from it brings risks that he would rather avoid. Public speeches, meetings in unfamiliar locations, even visits to schools and other institutions all present potential dangers that require his special attention and that he wouldn’t mind keeping off Julia’s schedule if he could. The approaching holiday season, however, ends up bringing him a challenge of completely different scale: an annual charity ball held within Julia’s constituency that she informs David is far too important an event fo her not to been seen at.

If there is one thing that David dreads more than any other public engagements, it is big, flashy events with glittering rooms full of local politicians and well-to-do members of society, all mingling and getting drunk together while waiters and waitresses of various origins roam freely among them. The background checks of the waiting staff alone take weeks of preparation, as does the securing of the premises, all of which David decides to personally oversee to the letter to avoid any repetition of the disaster that nearly took Julia’s life a year before. There has been no specific threat to her safety after the scrapping of RIPA 18, but for David, the prevalent sense of security is only one more reason not to get complacent.

The downside of all this, of course, is that the extra arrangements take up nearly all of his time, even to the point that for the week preceding the ball, he has to entirely relinquish his daily duties of personally overseeing Julia’s safety at work while he attends to the security preparations of the ball. He would not consider that situation ideal at any given time, but particularly at the moment the timing feels most inopportune. Their unusually formal parting nearly two weeks before had been followed by some days of awkwardness between them, and now, rather than gradually easing back into their old routine, they have barely even seen each other for an entire week.

David had entertained hopes that by the day of the ball, he would be available to pick Julia up in person, or at least be promptly waiting for her on arrival to exchange a few words with her, but as it turns out, he is held back by last minute preparations and checks that make it impossible for him to stick to the original plan. By the time he slips in through the back to relieve his substitute from his post, the party inside is already in full swing.

Instead of having the opportunity to personally escort Julia in, all that is left for him to do is to look for her in the crowd that has already gathered. That task, at least, is not difficult. David’s eyes land on her almost immediately. Clad in a long, dark blue evening dress that perfectly fits her frame, she stands tall and regal in high heels among a group of men and women who all pale in comparison. It’s just as well, David muses, that keeping his eyes on Julia is part of his job description, because looking at anyone else for any length of time would be nearly impossible with her in the room.

“Anything to report?” he asks as he slides next to the officer he has come to release, his eyes still lingering on Julia.

“No, Skipper,” the other man replies. He then nods towards the crowd, drawing David’s attention to a tall, well built man walking towards Julia’s group, two flutes of champagne in hand. “I think Lavender has an admirer, though.”

David swallows, his hand on his side involuntarily clenching into a fist as he watches the man walk up to Julia and offer her the other flute, receiving a dazzling smile from her in return.

“Who is he?” he asks, the tone of his voice betraying nothing more than a professional interest despite the sudden tightness he feels in his chest.

“I heard him introduce himself as Jonathan Hearst,” the other officer replies. “I had his name checked and apparently he’s a local business owner. Very well off. Should be low risk.”

David nods, feeling not at all assured as he watches the two separate a little from the rest of the group, the man’s hand resting comfortably on Julia’s back as he steers her toward a more quiet corner for a private conversation.

“Good,” David replies as soon as he is certain he has control over his voice again. “That should be all then. I’ll take it from here.”

He bids his substitute good night and then assumes his position by the edge of the room, making sure he can move easily along the walls and have a clear view of Julia and her environment at all times. On more than one occasion, he tries to catch her eye to let her know he has arrived, but she appears to be completely engrossed by the company around her, shaking hands, sliding in and out of conversations, effortlessly commanding every space she enters.

Under different circumstances, David might even have been able to privately enjoy the show, watching Julia in her element, but now, given the constant presence of one local business owner by the name of Jonathan Hearst, the entire evening feels like slow torture instead. Wherever Julia moves in the room, that man is never far from her side, and what’s worse, he is constantly plying her with champagne and easy compliments as the night wears on.

David is not always close enough to hear what is being said, but what he does hear is enough to make his stomach turn at such open flattery and flirtation that Julia appears not only to allow but even frequently return. 

At last, after what feels like an eternity, David sees her separate from her companions, looking around for what David can only assume is himself.

He steps forward to make himself more easily visible, then nods his head stiffly when their eyes meet.

“Oh, you,” Julia says airily, letting out a little laugh as she approaches him, a nearly empty glass of champagne dangling in one hand. “I didn’t know you were here already.”

David can smell the alcohol in her breath, can hear the slight slur in her speech, even though she still carries herself with an air of perfect, if somewhat relaxed, dignity. The fact that she is clearly having a good time should not be a bad thing but David finds that, given the present company she is keeping, her good mood can only serve to aggravate his.

“I have been here for nearly two hours, ma’am,” he replies, looking at her darkly. They have not seen each other for a week, and have barely spoken in two. David wonders if in that time, he has suddenly become invisible to her. “You might have seen me standing by,” he adds surly.

“Sorry,” Julia replies, but she doesn’t look too concerned. “I didn’t see you.”

David grinds his teeth. “I can see you have been occupied, ma’am,” he continues in his most formal tone.

Julia looks back at the crowd, flashes a smile at her admirer, then turns back to David and makes a face. “Politics,” she replies with a shrug.

“As you say, ma’am.”

Something in David’s tone finally seems to penetrate through the haze of Julia’s festive mood and she narrows her eyes, at last giving him her undivided attention.

“Is anything the matter?” she asks, her tone growing serious.

“No, ma’am,” David replies curtly, steeling himself against her carefully probing eyes by looking past her towards the people she has left behind. Then he returns his eyes to Julia. “Did you need something, ma’am?”

She appraises him for a moment, taking in his rigid posture and the hard set of his jaw.

“You, sir,” she concludes at last, lifting her champagne glass to point it in David’s direction, “are a terrible liar.” She raises an eyebrow and then downs the remaining contents of her glass before setting it down on the nearest available surface.

Despite the gloom he has wallowed in all evening, David finds his mood briefly thawing as he looks at Julia. He nearly allows the corners of his mouth to twitch into a smile as he entertains the thought of continuing this conversation with her, but then he recalls that the evening is far from over and that Julia probably did not seek him out just to socialise.

“I need to use the loo,” she says as if on cue to confirm David’s guess. Her eyes still linger on him, a slight frown greasing the space between her eyebrows, but she doesn’t prod him any further with questions.

Feeling the sting of disappointment, David nods quietly and, not trusting himself to speak, immediately steps forward to start clearing a path for her. They make their way in silence through the ballroom, past the public restrooms into a more private facility, reserved specifically for the evening’s most highest ranking guest.

“How nice,” Julia remarks as she observes the secluded room that David has secured fo her while he takes a peek inside the toilet to make sure everything there is still in order. “Is it your doing, this private loo?” she asks, stepping towards him.

“All clear, ma’am,” David replies officiously, averting his gaze and ignoring her attempt at conversation.

Julia’s eyes sweep across his face and she pauses, clearly taken aback by his response, but if David had hoped for a more profound reaction to prove that she had felt a sting too, he is left disappointed.

“All clear, ma’am,” she echoes his words back at him, mocking his formal tone, then pats his shoulder as she passes him on her way to the cubicle.

***

For David, the night doesn’t get any better as the evening wears on. Julia is whisked away to the dance floor as soon as the dancing commences, and when she is not being swirled around by her business man admirer, she is mingling effectively among other guests. Occasionally her eyes find David’s in the crowd but they never linger on him long enough for any real communication to pass between them. The champagne continues to flow and through all other changes in the company that surrounds her, the irksome business man proves to be a nearly permanent fixture by Julia’s side.

By the time Julia finally extracts herself from the company of her admirer and other acquaintance to make her way in David’s direction, his patience and endurance have been stretched to the limit.

“Nice evening, ma’am?” he asks coolly, placing a steadying hand on Julia’s arm as she struggles to balance on her heels.

She squints at him as if trying to read his mood.

“Yes, quite,” she replies after a short delay, shifting her weight from one foot to another to cover a slight wobble.

David returns her look without any variation in his own expression, a hand still poised on her arm.

“Ready to go home?” he asks, eyes darting to the man she has just left behind who, in David’s opinion, is still not standing far enough. The unwelcome thought that Julia might be planning to bring him with her crosses his mind and he scowls.

“Oh, stop doing that,” Julia retorts, her eyes following his gaze. “He’s done nothing to you.”

With a less biased mind, David might have been able to concede that she is right, but after an entire evening of watching the same man pursue Julia’s attention with apparent success, he is in no mood to hear it.

“He’s a safety concern,” David replies, clenching his jaw, eyes still on the man in question. It’s a stretch, but not entirely untrue. If the past has taught him anything, _everyone_ is a potential safety concern.

Julia lets out an incredulous laugh. “Oh, God, listen to yourself,” she mumbles under her breath.

David turns his scowl at Julia. It is evident that she is more drunk now than the last time they talked - an observation which only causes the unpleasant feeling in his stomach to swell as he thinks of the man he considers responsible.

“He’s been carrying you drinks all ev-” he starts, but Julia lifts her finger with surprising alacrity to cut him off.

“Don’t...” she warns him.

“But he’s...” David tries to articulate his frustration. “And you’re clearly off yo…” 

“I’m not drunk,” she snaps, her words a little too slurred to sound entirely convincing.

“You can barely stand up,” he hisses back at her before he can hold his tongue, regretting the words almost as soon as they have left his mouth. Not only are they blatantly out of line, but the statement is also unjust. Even full of expensive champagne, Julia appears to be holding up much better than many of the other guests that David has seen tottering away in various states of intoxication - apparently the inevitable result of an open bar.

He knows he deserves the icy glare that Julia throws at him in return but he doesn’t have time to amend his statement before she yanks her arm out of his reach.

“Just fuck off, David,” she says, the flatness of her tone somehow more biting than anything she might have yelled at him in anger. 

David watches helplessly as she turns away and returns to her companions to bid them good night. He watches her exchange a few more pleasantries with the group and then turn to the man who has been by her side all evening, her hand lingering on his arm far longer than necessary as she leans in to say something to him and then laughs at his response. The whole display makes David feel sick to his stomach, every muscle in his body poised to step in and intervene, and nothing but his years of military training keeping him from doing so. To his relief, however, Julia finally says goodbye to the aggravating man and, even better, does so without extending him an invitation to join her.

She doesn’t acknowledge David’s presence in any way as she makes her way out of the room, but he follows her out like a shadow, hovering as close as he can without appearing overbearing. They reach the car without a single word passing between them and when David helps Julia in, she still doesn’t deign to give him as much as a look of acknowledgement in return.

On their drive back to the Overstrand Mansions, David doesn’t even try to break the frosty silence that prevails, knowing that neither of them is likely to have anything to say to each other that they would rather not say in front of the driver. Once inside Julia’s apartment, he diligently goes through his normal safety routine before returning to the foyer to finally release them both from the professional portion of the evening.

He finds Julia leaning heavily against the wall by the door, shoes in hand, her bare feet peeking from under the dress that, without the heels, now almost sweeps the floor.

She doesn’t wait for David’s “all clear, ma’am,” but pushes herself to an upright position and strides past him as soon as he appears in the doorway.

“Julia,” he calls after her, turning around to follow her into the living room.

Still ignoring him, Julia plops down on the sofa and carelessly tosses her shoes over her shoulder. For a moment she seems determined not to acknowledge David’s presence in any way, but eventually she turns her eyes to him and blinks slowly.

“I believe I told you to fuck off,” she says with false equanimity, leaning back against the cushions of the sofa. “You legally can now, you know,” she adds, spreading her arms to produce and exaggerated shrug. “I’m home safe and sound, as you see.”

David shakes his head, feeling the sting of her words. His earlier crossness, born out of the jealousy he had felt all evening, has already faded into regret over his own behaviour. “You know that’s not all I care about,” he says somberly, taking a step forward.

“Well, it should be,” Julia replies, her fingers picking on the surface of the sofa, heavy lids hooding her eyes as she looks down. 

David takes another, tentative step towards her. In strictly professional terms, she is not wrong and there’s not much he can say to argue against what they both know to be true.

“I’m sorry, Julia,” he says instead. “I had no right to speak to you the way I did.”

Julia looks up at him, her head swaying back and forth as her eyes take a moment to focus on David’s face.

“That’s right, you didn’t,” she drawls at last. “You’re my PPO, David. Not my nanny.”

“But that man…” David starts, forgetting his remorse for a moment at the mere thought of him.

“You know what you’re also not?” Julia interrupts him more sharply. She waits a beat and then answers her own question: “You are not my boyfriend...or lover, or anything that would give you the right to care about the company I keep.”

David snaps his mouth shut, the unpleasant feeling in his stomach washing over him again.

“And _he_ is?” he asks through gritted teeth, struggling to keep his voice in control. He knows she is right. He has no right to question who she might accept attention from or bestow it on. He has no right to feel jealous when he himself has a wife waiting for him at home even as he stands here desperately coveting another woman.

Julia looks at him for a moment through clouded eyes, then shakes her head. “Jesus, David,” she mutters, suppressing a laugh.

“Is this amusing to you?” David asks, frowning - the vexation he has nursed for most of the evening suddenly close to boiling again.

“Oh, very,” Julia replies, leaning forward on the sofa. “Your hypocrisy is frankly astounding.”

David bristles. He knows Julia is right, but it does absolutely nothing to assuage his raging jealousy. If anything, it makes it worse.

Julia looks at him for a moment, her face difficult to read.

“ _That man_ ,” she says at last, lifting up two pairs of fingers to indicate air quotes, “is an important business owner with considerable influence over my constituency.” She pauses, swaying slightly in her seat as her eyes remain on David.

“I see,” he replies, biting the inside of his cheek. “A perfect union, then,” he adds bitterly.

Julia chuckles again, shaking her head. “No, you really don’t see.” Then she finally grows more serious and David can see her make an effort to sit up straight as she looks him in the eye.

“I don’t want him in my bed, David,” she says after a long pause. “But I do need him in the palm of my hand because he has enough local influence to make my life as an MP either very easy or very difficult.”

She slumps back against the cushions, looks at David through narrowed eyes and then wags a finger at him. “Not that it’s frankly any of _your_ business.”

David looks down at his feet, suddenly feeling very foolish for his hasty conclusions.

“I’m...I’m sorry,” he says with some difficulty, eyes still cast down. “You’re right, it’s not my business. It wasn’t my place to question or judge. I just...”

He looks helplessly at Julia, unable to finish the sentence - unable to admit that the sight of her with another man is enough to cloud his judgment because he finds the mere thought of it unbearable.

His expression must look pained because, after taking it in for a moment, Julia pulls herself up from the sofa and teeters over to where David is standing. Instinctively, he lifts his hand again to steady her.

“I’ve told you it’s what we do,” she admonishes him, shaking her head as she runs the back of her fingers over David’s cheek. “We charm people for a living.”

Before she can let her hand fall, David captures it in his, gives it a slight squeeze and then pulls it to his chest. He can feel the warmth of her breath on his face, can smell the strong whiff of alcohol in it.

“Is that what you’re doing to me now?” he asks quietly, searching her eyes for an honest answer. “Charming me?”

Julia looks at him for a moment, head tipping slightly forward and then back again.

“Is that what you think?” she asks after a beat.

David closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, his hand still holding Julia’s over his chest. It isn’t lost on him that the way they are standing now is almost as if they were dancing very slowly, swaying slightly back and forth to a silent, unsteady rhythm of their own. He is utterly charmed, but not _charmed_ in a way he imagines it would be like to be charmed by Julia Montague.

“No,” he says at last, opening his eyes to meet her gaze.

“No,” Julia repeats, head bobbing forward again.

“But you _are_ drunk,” he says softly, taking a step back. Whatever he might wish to do, Vicky and everything else be damned, he knows this is not the time.

“I know,” she agrees, her face breaking into a rare grin.

This time David cannot hold back his smile.

“I thought you said you weren’t,” he teases her. 

“Shush,” she mutters, playfully swatting away the hand that still holds hers. 

They look at each other for a moment, both gradually growing serious again.

“I should go,” David says at last, but with so little conviction that it almost comes across as a question.

“You should,” Julia agrees after a beat. She looks at David, hesitates a moment and then adds: “Before you go...there’s something I need you for.”

“Anything,” David replies, eager to be of assistance and make amends for his earlier behaviour.

Julia gives him a half-amused look and then turns around. “The dress,” she says and David can see the long zipper bisecting the back of the gown. “Could you?” she asks, turning her head slightly. “Just the zipper,” she adds under her breath.

“Of course.” David steps forward. He clears his throat and reaches for the top of the zipper, pulling it down slowly, one hand pressing gently against Julia’s back to keep the garment in place.

He does his best not to look, but the scarred skin that the opening fabric slowly reveals is impossible to ignore. Concentrated mostly on her right side, the burned, cratered skin nearly mirrors his own scarring, except for what time has not yet done to fade the angry redness on hers.

Unable to stop himself, David lifts his fingers and runs them softly down the exposed back, tears burning in his eyes as he thinks of the silent battle she must have been privately waging for many months, never letting much of it show on the outside.

He can hear Julia’s breath catch at the contact of his fingers on her skin, but she doesn’t turn around. Nor does she tell him to stop.

“Ghastly, isn’t it?” she says with a forced laugh after a prolonged silence, swallowing down whatever else she might be feeling.

“No,” David quickly objects, leaning down without thinking to press his lips gently on her shoulder, just where the smooth skin merges with the scarring.

“No,” he repeats, lifting his head and brushing his fingertips across the rough surface again.

This time, Julia shifts abruptly under his touch and David immediately lets his hand fall.

“I’m sorry, love,” he breathes. “Did I hurt you?” Anxious that he might have unwittingly caused her pain, he barely even registers the endearment that so naturally falls from his lips.

If Julia notices it, she doesn't comment on it. Instead, she shakes her head in response but doesn’t turn to look at David. He can hear her take a deep breath that hitches almost like a sob in the middle.

“No,” she says at last. “It doesn't hurt.” There’s a crack in her voice that she pauses to cover. “Thank you...for helping with the dress,” she finishes after clearing her throat. 

David nods, even though he knows Julia can’t see it.

“You should drink some water, before you go to bed,” he says just to fill the silence that falls between them.

He hears Julia chuckle at his words - a sound that David heartily welcomes.

“Still not my nanny, David,” she retorts after a beat. David watches her take another deep breath and then finally turn around to face him again, her hands pressing the dress to her chest to stop it from slipping down. “You do realise this wasn’t my first annual charity ball,” she reminds him. 

David has to concede that it probably wasn’t. 

“Is it always like this?” he asks. It occurs to him that this time last year, she had been fighting for her life in a hospital. The memory makes him shudder.

Julia nods drowsily. “Nearly always,” she replies, stifling a yawn. “This job is not easy on the liver.”

“Noted,” David replies, wondering briefly if next year he will still be there, watching over Julia as other men surround her, worrying about who she will go home with. The prospect makes him feel sick, but the thought that he might not be there at all somehow feels even worse. 

“Now, as your PPO…” he starts again, brushing the thought aside when he sees that Julia can barely keep her eyes open.

“It is vital for my safety to go to bed?” she finishes for him, head bobbing back and forth again.

“Precisely, ma’am,” he replies.

Julia hums noncommittally, but then turns around and starts tottering towards the bedroom.

David watches her go and then swiftly marches to the kitchen, filling a large glass with water before catching up with her by the bedroom door. 

Julia rolls her eyes at him but doesn’t object to the water, accepting the offering with a quiet "thanks," before she disappears into the privacy of the bedroom, leaving the door ajar.

“I will see you tomorrow,” David says, doing his best not to let his gaze follow her in.

“I’m not going anywhere tomorrow.” He hears Julia’s muffled voice from the other side.

David bites his cheek, the words having come out so naturally that he had not even paused to consider that tomorrow is not their day. “Monday, then,” he corrects himself, a little embarrassed.

He doesn’t wait for a further response but bids her good night and, after pausing for a moment, turns off the lights in the living room and steps out into the street.

It’s a dark, chilly night outside, but David opts to make use of the quiet city and make his way home on foot. As he walks briskly through the mostly deserted streets, he lets his thoughts return to the evening that has just passed, trying to make sense of the feelings he can no longer deny - his jealousy over Julia’s attention, the attraction and affection that have somehow begun to intermingle, uniting as something else he doesn’t yet want to name.

When he reaches home, he lets his eyes wander upstairs where he knows Vicky and the children to be sleeping, but he cannot bring himself to join them in that world. Instead, he loosens his cravat, discards his suit and settles down on the sofa, doubtful that sleep would grant him peace any time soon.


	6. Occupational hazard

As part of the terms of his current commission, David is required to start his weeks at occupational health, and the Monday following the ball is no different. Instead of picking up Julia in the morning, he finds himself sitting opposite his therapist in a dull-looking room, ready to talk about everything and anything that might be burdening him. At least in theory.

“We haven’t talked about your work for some time,” his therapist, Dr. Richards, seizes an opening as soon as they have both been seated. “Perhaps that could be our main topic today.”

David tenses at his words but tries to maintain the appearance of perfect ease as he reluctantly nods his head in acquiescence, reminding himself that it’s just a topic like any other, albeit one he has been trying to avoid for some time now. It’s not that he minds talking about his work as such, but lately his thoughts of work have been so intertwined with thoughts of Julia that he doesn’t know how he could possibly talk of one without mentioning the other, and he is afraid that any talk of Julia could lead him to saying something he ought not to.

There is doctor-patient confidentiality, of course, but then there is also his therapist’s duty to advice David's superiors if he suspects his working relationship with Julia could be compromised by what he feels for her.

Whatever it is that he feels for her.

David taps his thumb absently against his thigh, pausing his train of thought as he arrives at that question. It is something he has resolutely tried not to ask himself for a while now, fearing that the answer might jeopardize everything he has managed to build at home over the last several months.

“How long has it been now since you have been working for the Home Secretary again?” His therapist continues after a prolonged silence, drawing David’s attention back to himself.

David clears his throat. “It’s been a couple of months,” he forces himself to speak. “Three, I think.”

There is a pause as he doesn’t volunteer anything else.

“And how has it been?” his therapist asks.

David considers the question for a moment, knowing there is no way he could reply truthfully.

“Has it triggered any unpleasant memories?” Dr. Richards prompts further. “Of the Pascoe House shooting or the explosion at St. Matthew's?”

David shakes his head slowly, making the effort to examine how those events have affected him because that, at least, is something he has learned how to do. It doesn’t take him long to come to the conclusion that it’s different from the previous traumas he has experienced. It’s not that those attacks don’t still prey on his mind, too, but when he thinks of the day at St. Matthew's now, all he really sees is Julia, and all he feels is the panic at the thought of not reaching her in time. The explosion doesn’t plague his nights except when he sometimes wakes up in a sweat after running towards her, the startled look on her face the last thing he sees before he opens his eyes.

His pulse still rises when he hears an unexpected loud sound as he stands guard at work, but the fear it fills him with has more to do with Julia’s safety than his own. And often, when he thinks of that day at St. Matthew's in particular, the explosion isn’t even the first thing on his mind. Instead, he finds himself thinking of the moment they had shared before the speech - Julia words of wanting him by her side, the look on her face and the reassuring tug of his hand, even after what he had done to her the night before. 

David swallows, pushing down the emotion that is threatening to make its way out into the open.

“I wasn’t really the target,” he says at last, condensing his feelings on the matter into a short sentence that barely scratches the surface.

The doctor looks at him over the rims of his glasses, perhaps sensing his reluctance to engage on the subject. “But you were there,” he points out. “You could have been hurt. Seriously hurt.”

“Aye,” David replies, his mind only partly in the present. “It’s part of the job description.”

He thinks of Julia’s body, broken and barely alive, underneath him in the rubble because he had reached her too late to protect her. He had suffered no serious harm. She had very nearly died.

“And how does it make you feel?” Dr. Richards asks again, calling for his attention. “You didn’t really say how it has been, working with the Home Secretary again.”

“It has been...good,” David replies after a moment of hesitation, focusing on the present again. It’s not a lie, only a simplification of something he barely knows how to put into words. “It’s not an easy job, but...it feels right for me,” he adds. “I wouldn’t trade it for...let’s say gardening,” he attempts to crack a joke to lighten the mood.

Again, it’s not a lie, but the thing he is omitting is that he couldn’t imagine not having Julia, specifically, as his principal. If he were to be given any other elected official to protect, he believes he might actually start looking into gardening. Dr. Richards, however, seems to accept his answer, nodding understandingly as he scribbles something down in his notes.

“They say she is not very easy to work with,” he says as he puts down his pen.

David can barely suppress a smile.

“Perhaps,” he agrees slowly, thinking of many who might agree with the doctor. “For myself I can only say we have a good working relationship. She understands what my job is and relies on my judgement when it comes to matters that concern her safety. In my line of work, I could hardly ask for more.”

“I am glad to hear it,” his therapist says, glancing at the clock on the wall, perhaps sensing the conversation isn’t really moving forward. “We still have some time left,” he points out, turning his eyes to David again. “Is there anything else you would like to talk about?” He pauses. “How are things at home?”

It’s another question that is not exactly easy to answer. David takes a moment to consider, focusing on what his therapy has taught him.

“It’s good,” he replies at last. “I love being a proper dad to Ella and Charlie again.”

“And how are things with your wife? I understand that making your marriage work has been a great priority to you?”

David lets out a breath, allows his mind to wander to Vicky, and feels that familiar pang of guilt that now seems to accompany his thoughts almost every time he does so.

“I...don’t know,” he replies honestly. He pauses and tries to find words for something he has been avoiding for some time now, deciding he can no longer keep pushing it aside.

His therapist looks at him with interest but says nothing to push him forward, allowing him to arrive at his own words.

“When she agreed to try again, I thought it was all I’d ever wanted,” David starts at last. “I thought if I could get my life together, go to therapy, work on my PTSD, everything would go back to how it was before...” He pauses and starts tapping his thigh again. “Before the war, I mean,” he finishes quietly.

Dr. Richards nods. “And it hasn’t?” he suggests.

“It has, in some ways,” David replies, taking in a deep breath as he struggles to admit the truth to himself. “In other ways,” he continues, “it feels so different.” He pauses again and looks at the doctor helplessly. “I don’t know how to make it like it used to be. I’ve tried, but I think it's me...I don’t think _I_ can be the same.”

“That is perfectly natural,” his therapist points out. “We are all shaped by the experiences we have, and your experiences in war and in the police force have shaped you in ways that will always be part of you. You can learn to handle those experiences, and you can grow from them as you already have, but you can’t sweep them away as if they never happened.”

David nods, clenching his jaw. It’s not that he hasn’t known it deep down before, but to hear it out loud gives it a new kind of finality.

“If you want a future with your wife,” the doctor concludes, “you must start building it together, instead of looking for something you had long ago in the past.”

There’s a short silence as David contemplates the doctor’s words. He thinks of Vicky and then of Julia.

“It’s not just that,” he admits at last in a quiet voice, almost afraid to put into words something he hasn’t yet dared to give a name to. “There’s something...I mean, there’s some _one_ else,” he says hesitantly, hands now gripping his thighs.

His therapist looks up from his notes, clearly surprised. “You are having an affair?”

David shakes his head quickly. “No, no, nothing has happened,” he hastens to say. “Not since I’ve been back with Vicky, but…”

“But before you got back together with your wife?” Dr. Richards prompts. “Or there is someone you might wish to do something with?”

David closes his eyes, thoughts of Julia again filling his mind. The answer, he knows, is both.

“I don’t want to break my family,” he says out loud, opening his eyes.

The doctor writes something down in his notes again. “I understand, David,” he says after a beat. “This other woman...is it only sexual attraction you feel for her? Something perhaps lacking with Vicky that you could try to work on instead of seeking satisfaction elsewhere?”

David sighs, casting his eyes up towards the ceiling. It would be easy enough to chalk it up to sexual frustration, because sex with Vicky, though pleasant in its own way, doesn’t exactly bear comparison to the memories he has of Julia, but he knows by now that the difference lies deeper than that.

He feels more at home with Julia than he does with Vicky, and it extends far beyond any thoughts of the bedroom. It’s a startling realisation, but one he can’t ignore once it occurs to him.

With Vicky, even now, he feels as if he is constantly walking on eggshells, afraid that one wrong word or action could affect what they have so tentatively rebuilt. It’s not that Vicky isn’t understanding of his long hours or attempting to be supportive when he still sometimes struggles with his PTSD, but he knows, when she looks at him in those moments of darkness, that she doesn’t truly understand him and probably never will. They are two people living in the same house but in different worlds.

With Julia, he never feels the need to explain himself or to apologize for being the person he is now, as opposed to who he used to be. With Julia, he is not poor Dave who went to war and only came back as a shell of his former self. If he says or does something wrong, he can expect to be simply told off like an adult, instead of receiving a pitying look or a patronising _“I know this is difficult for you.”_

“It’s more than that,” David says after a long silence, his breathing ragged as he tries to be honest, not only to his therapist, but even more importantly to himself.

“I love Vicky, I really do,” he continues, adamant to say it out loud. “She’s the mother of my children and I would do anything for her, but...” he pauses, finding it difficult to admit what he doesn't want to be true.

“But?” his therapist prompts him.

“I don’t think I am in love with her anymore.”

***

When David arrives at the Home Office, his eyes meet Julia’s through the glass panes of her office. She is in the middle of a briefing and her attention doesn’t linger on David for longer than it takes her to acknowledge his arrival with a slight nod, but David lets his eyes rest on her for some time as he mulls over his meeting with his therapist.

 _“You know you have to make a decision, David.”_ His therapist’s parting words echo in his mind.

He casts his eye around the office floor to make sure that nothing is amiss and then returns his attention to Julia. She is still talking with her advisors, now wearing a steely expression that is so unmistakably her that David almost smiles at the sight, feeling an unexpected surge of warmth inside him even as he watches her chew out her subordinates.

Dr. Richards’ words creep back into his mind: _“This current situation you find yourself in is not good for you. It’s not good for your wife and children, and it’s probably not good for this other woman either if she has any feelings for you.”_

David continues to watch through the glass panes as Julia dismisses her advisors and he finds himself wondering what it is she truly feels for him now. He tries to catch her eye again, as if one look could give him all the answers he needs, but this time she does nothing to acknowledge him, even though David is almost certain she is aware of his gaze. 

He continues to mull over his therapist’s advice.

_“You cannot make a family whole just by your physical presence. If you want to commit to them, that commitment has to be complete.”_

_“You are saying I have to cut this...this other woman out of my life?”_

David can feel the palms of his hands sweat as he looks at Julia still. He tries to imagine a life where he would only ever see her in the news, or maybe occasionally catch a fleeting glimpse of her on the move while protecting someone else. He tries to imagine his feelings for her slowly fading into indifference, but he shakes his head at the thought. He has felt many things towards Julia over the time they have known each other, but indifference never has and never could be one of them.

_“I am saying you have to make a decision. You say your children are your first priority but only you can define the best way to be a father to them.”_

David’s thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sound of the radio in his ear.

_“A courier with flowers arriving for Lavender. Moving up in lift 2.”_

David springs to action. He stalks over to the lifts to meet the delivery man and receives the flowers on Julia’s behalf to inspect the bouquet for any possible hidden devices. The only thing he finds is a card attached to the flowers: _“It was a pleasure to meet you at the ball. You looked radiant.”_ Signed: _Jonathan_.

David twists his mouth in displeasure, his eyes shooting up to Julia who, currently alone in her office, has by now noticed the movement in the hall. He heaves a deep sigh and carries the bouquet over to her office.

“Flowers for you, ma’am,” he says formally, aware that any privacy they have here, in this glass cage, is transient at best.

Julia gets up from behind her desk and walks over to David.

“Thank you, sergeant,” she replies, the warm tone of her voice belying the formality of her words. “How was therapy?” she then asks under her breath, using their brief proximity as an opportunity to strike a conversation.

David tenses at the question but then relaxes, reminding himself that she could not possibly be aware of what had been discussed there. The next thought, that she is simply showing an interest in his well-being, both warms his heart and tugs at it painfully as he thinks of the choice he has yet to make.

“It was...illuminating, ma’am,” he replies after a beat, reluctantly handing over the flowers that he would rather have kept holding on to.

Julia casts him a curious look and then turns her attention to the flowers. David waits with a baited breath for her eyes to land on the card and when they do, he can feel his muscles tense as he watches her read it. Apart from a brief smile that barely registers on her face, David doesn’t see much of a reaction and he allows himself to relax a little.

“You seem to have left an impression, ma’am,” he can’t help saying while she still stands in front of him.

Julia turns her eyes back to David, studying his face briefly.

“Have I?” she says at last, her expression and tone of voice difficult to read.

Instead of waiting for a response, Julia glances at her watch and then walks back to her desk, placing the flowers on the corner of it. “I’m meeting a few more people this afternoon but I think that should be all for today,” she says in a tone that signals their short conversation is over. “I will see you when I’m done.”

David nods. “Ma’am,” he replies simply before turning to leave.

 

True to her word, Julia appears ready to leave only a couple of hours later after seeing off her last string of visitors for the day. David watches as she picks up a pile of papers, shoves them into her briefcase and then puts on her coat, her eyes meeting David’s through the glass to signal that she is ready. He notes with quiet satisfaction that she has not opted to bring the flowers home with her.

“Sierra-Zulu Seven-Nine, Lavender on the move,” David mutters into his earpiece as Julia sweeps past him and he picks up his steps to reach her by the lifts.

They step in and as soon as the doors of the lift close, David decides he can no longer remain silent.

“Ma’am, I think we need to talk,” he says, eyes staring firmly ahead. In his peripheral vision, he can see Julia’s head turn to glance at him quickly before she, too, fixes her gaze forward.

“Certainly, if…” She doesn’t get to finish her sentence before the lift suddenly rattles and then powers down as all lights flicker off. “David?” there’s a note of panic in Julia’s voice as she fumbles for him in the dark.

His instincts immediately kicking in, David quickly circles his arm around her and directs her towards the back end of the lift, using his body to press her against one of the corners, as far away from any possible harm he can imagine. “Control. Sierra-Zulu Seven-Nine,” he speaks raggedly into his earpiece. “We are stuck in a lift. Lavender is unharmed but all power appears to be down. Please advice.”

There’s a crackle in his ear, a short silence and then a response: _“Sierra-Zulu Seven-Nine, Control. Received. The whole building appears to have gone dark but back-up power should be up within a few minutes. Continue down to the basement and move to emergency protocol until we know the reason of the power outage. We are sending back-up.”_

“Wilco,” David replies, cutting the connection. He takes out his phone and turns the flashlight on to check on Julia.

She looks shaken and flinches at the sudden light.

“It’s okay,” he tells her, searching for her hand in the dark. “It’s going to be okay.” When their hands meet, both fumbling and a little desperate, he gives hers a tight squeeze before lifting it to his lips, finding comfort for himself where he is trying to give it to her.

“It’s probably just a power outage,” he tells her in whisper, shifting so that she has a little more room to breathe. “The building has a back-up generator that should kick in any minute now.”

Julia looks at him in the light of the phone. She nods at his words but David can see the fear in her eyes that probably reflects his own - the shell-shocked expression he is all too familiar with.

“Listen to me,” he continues, pulling her hand to himself. “It’s going to be okay,” he tells her, trying to assure himself as well as her. “The lights will come back on, the lift will move down all the way to the basement and as soon as it does, we will get out, get into the car and drive away.”

Julia nods slowly.

“And what if…” she finally starts to speak, but doesn’t finish her sentence.

David doesn’t need to ask because the same thought has already crossed his mind as well. If this power outage is somehow deliberately caused, there could be something else entirely waiting for them in the basement.

“I’m going to take out my gun and turn around to face the doors, just as a safety measure,” he says, reaching slowly for the handle of his weapon. “You stay behind my back and if anything happens to me…”

“Christ,” Julia mutters, burying her face into his shoulder. “Don’t say that,” she whispers.

David shuts his eyes, allowing himself for the briefest of moments to simply feel Julia’s body against his own. Then he steels himself for what must be done.

“I have to instruct you, ma’am,” he replies as formally as he can muster, moving them slowly toward the front corner of the lift where they are less likely to be a direct target from outside. “There should be back-up arriving but...”

As he speaks, the lights flicker back on and the lift shudders slightly before it starts moving down at its usual pace.

“Control. Sierra-Zulu Seven-Nine,” David speaks quickly into his earpiece. “We are moving again. What’s the status in the basement?”

_“Sierra-Zulu Seven-Nine, Control. Basement is secure. Move directly to the car.”_

David lets out a heavy sigh, giving Julia’s arm a reassuring squeeze as he lowers the gun in his other hand and steps back.

In a few more moments, the doors of the lift open and they are both ushered towards the waiting car. Before either of them can get in, an officer from the backup vehicle steps forward.

“We don’t know the cause of the power cut yet,” the PC says, addressing mainly Julia. “It’s probably nothing but we recommend a safe location for the night, ma’am, until we have ascertained that there’s no security risk. Either that, or an officer should stay with you until we get an all clear.”

“Right, thank you,” Julia replies in a shaky voice that barely seems to belong to her. She looks at David for his input and he doesn’t even need to pause to consider.

“I will stay with her,” he says firmly. “She will go home and I will stay with her.”


	7. Spaghetti and meatballs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I'm sorry it has taken to long to update. 2. I hope you like long chapters because this one really ran away with me. 3. There's a little throwback to chapter 2 in this chapter.

The drive back to Julia’s apartment is a silent one. David keeps his eyes mostly on the road and the pavement, switching his focus from back to front and to both sides, constantly on alert for any signs of unusual activity. The only thing out of the ordinary he sees, however, is when he occasionally lets his eyes pause on Julia in the back seat and finds her staring absently out of the window, her ministerial box unopened by her side. It’s a sight David finds far more disconcerting than anything he sees outside.

When they arrive at the apartment, David goes through the rooms with a level of care that exceeds even his own usual standards, spending additional time by every window to make sure there are no signs of mischief outside either. Once fully satisfied that nothing is wrong, he returns to the foyer to give Julia the all clear.

“Thank you,” she replies in a voice that barely rises above a whisper. She lays her fingers briefly on David’s arm, looks him in the eye for the first time after getting into the car, tries to smile, and then drops her hand and walks past him into the apartment.

“Julia,” David calls after her, stopping her before she can slip into the living room. There’s a touch of annoyance on Julia’s face when she turns around to face him, but David is only happy to see that familiar expression replace the far away, glassy look in her eyes.

“What?” she asks testily.

“Nothing,” he replies, grazing her arm with the back of his fingers, once again wishing he had the right to do more. His therapist’s words about making a choice briefly float through his mind, but he pushes the thought aside to focus on Julia. Anything else can wait. “I just wanted to make sure you’re alright,” he says softly.

For a moment it looks as if Julia is about to quickly rebuff his concern, but then she catches the earnest look in his eyes and allows herself to take a deep breath instead, apparently reconsidering her response.

“I’ll be fine,” she says after a beat, almost convincingly. She pauses for a moment and chews on the inside of her cheek. “I know, rationally, that it was probably just a malfunction somewhere in the grid and yet…” She trails off.

David nods, waiting for her to finish.

“It’s disconcerting,” Julia says after a brief pause. She falls silent again and leans against the doorframe between the living room and the foyer. Perhaps for the first time since David has known her, she looks as if she doesn’t quite know what to do with herself. “When you’ve been a target before…” she starts but then stops again, meeting David’s eyes briefly. “Well, you know how it is.”

David nods. He knows only too well. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks tentatively when the silence stretches on. 

Julia looks at him for a moment, clearly considering his offer, but then shakes her head. The shift in her expression is barely noticeable, but suddenly David can see that her whole demeanour has closed off again.

“I have a therapist for that,” she says curtly, having apparently decided to pull herself together. Her eyes flit briefly between David and the living room as if still torn between accepting his comfort and simply removing herself from his presence, but she soon seems to decide on the latter. Without another word, she slips through the doorway and makes her way across the room, all the way to her study. David follows her with his gaze as long as he is able to see her, but when she closes the door behind her, there is nothing more he can do.

Deflated, he lets out a breath and enters the living room alone. It feels empty without Julia in it. After a brief look around, he saunters into the kitchen and starts to assess what they might be able to have for dinner. With the precision he usually reserves for going through the apartment to check for its safety, he checks each cupboard for utensils and non-perishables, wondering if some of the fine-looking apparatus have ever even been used. He saves the fridge for last and is in the middle of examining its contents, finding it surprisingly well stocked, when he hears Julia clearing her throat behind him. Surprised by her sudden presence, he quickly shuts the fridge and stands to attention.

“I’m sorry, I was…” he starts awkwardly.

“Raiding my fridge?” Julia offers, a ghost of a smile making a fleeting appearance on her face as she raises an eyebrow. She has removed her coat and replaced her sharp blazer with a soft cashmere shirt and already looks much more comfortable for it. More like her usual self, David notes to his satisfaction and relief.

“Something like it,” he replies sheepishly, his hand rising to scratch the back of his head.

“You’ll find I had a delivery come in yesterday,” Julia comments as she joins David by the fridge, seemingly not bothered that he has taken the liberty to examine her kitchen - perhaps because the room seems to be there for necessity only. There is nothing of Julia in it. She takes out a bit of cheese from the fridge, pops it into her mouth and then leans against the frame.

“Help yourself.” She nods towards the contents.

“I could cook something for us,” David offers, taking another look inside before returning his eyes to Julia. “Seeing as you are so well stocked,” he adds.

She seems to consider the offer briefly but then shakes her head. “I’m not really hungry,” she replies, dropping her gaze to the floor. After a moment, she looks up again and reaches for another pinch of cheese before removing herself from the immediate vicinity of both David and the fridge.

“But I meant what I said,” she continues, toying with the bite before putting it into her mouth. “If you want to cook anything for yourself, I’m not stopping you.” 

David doesn’t reply but watches on with a gnawing sense of concern as Julia chews on her measly bit of cheese. He can see that despite the effort she is putting into appearing better, she still remains shaken by the events of the day, and he knows that moping idly around the apartment all evening is not likely to change that. He casts about for a solution for a moment and then, as he starts mentally going through all the ingredients he had spotted in the fridge, a new idea finally begins to take shape. It’s not how he had thought this evening would pan out, but the more he thinks of it, the more he can see potential in it. 

“Aye, I could cook,” he says slowly, closing the fridge again and crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the door. “But I can only do that if you stay in the kitchen with me. I would be neglecting my duties if I made myself busy here and let you out of my sight.”

It’s not strictly true and David is fairly certain Julia knows it, but it’s worth a shot. If everything goes according to plan, he hopes to coax Julia into getting involved with some part of the preparation, but for that to be a possibility, he needs her continued presence in the kitchen.

Clearly sensing he is up to something, Julia raises her eyebrow quizzically, but she looks more intrigued than annoyed - a sign that his approach might actually be working.

“You would hold me here like a hostage?” she asks bluntly, leaning her back against the kitchen counter. “Isn’t that the sort of situation you should be protecting me from?”

Julia’s question knocks David back for a moment, but then he sees the barely visible smirk tugging at the corners of her lips and releases his breath. “Not a hostage, ma’am,” he replies with the same affected seriousness. “Just a very secure principal,” he adds and looks at her expectantly, hoping he has played this right. 

Julia narrows her eyes, clearly still trying to figure out what his angle is, but then she simply shrugs her shoulders and hoists herself up with some difficulty to sit on the counter. 

“Go right ahead then,” she says, tilting her head as she looks at him. “I don’t expect that I will get any work done tonight anyway, so I might as well watch whatever this is,” she adds, gesturing her hand in David’s general direction.

“Aye, ma’am,” he replies, suppressing a smile as he opens the fridge one more time to take out everything he needs.

As he piles the items up on the counter, he can feel Julia’s eyes on him, but she offers no comment on the selection of ground beef, eggs, parsley and other ingredients he produces, first from the fridge and, after some looking around, from other cupboards. It is only when he finds a packet of spaghetti and adds it next to everything else that she suddenly seems to connect the dots.

“You have got to be joking,” she remarks flatly. “Spaghetti and meatballs?”

David shrugs, stealing a glance in Julia’s direction. “It’s what I’m good at,” he replies innocently. “Besides, you already said you weren’t going to eat.”

“Well, I’m definitely not going to eat now,” Julia huffs. She gets down from the counter, takes a glass out of a cupboard and walks over to the fridge to fill it with wine before returning to her earlier post.

David gives her a moment as he unwraps the produce, washes what needs to be washed and finds the utensils he is going to need. Then he looks at Julia again.

“You know how this would go faster,” he starts, throwing a towel over his shoulder as he steps a little closer.

Julia, clearly catching on to what he means, decides to feign a lack of understanding anyway. “I really don’t,” she replies coolly, taking a sip of her wine.

When David doesn’t budge, she sighs and rolls her eyes, dropping the pretense. “Do I look like someone who cooks?” she asks dryly.

David looks at her for a moment appraisingly, then steps forward and takes the wine glass out of her hand, placing it on the counter next to her.

“You do now,” he replies before she can protest. It’s a bold step, and one that certainly breaks several of the unspoken boundaries that usually hang between them, but David considers it a risk worth taking if it can help distract Julia from her own thoughts.

So far, his approach seems to be working well enough, and even Julia’s half-hearted protests appear to David to be more for show than a sign of actual unwillingness to participate. He knows her well enough to be certain that she would already have left the kitchen if she didn’t want to be there.

Confirming his suspicion, Julia finally shrugs in apparent defeat. “Fine, if it shuts you up,” she sighs, dropping down from the counter again. “What do you want me to do? And don’t say the dishes.” 

David’s lips quirk into a slight smile, the only outward acknowledgement of victory he will allow himself.

“You could start by washing your hands,” he suggests then. “Always do that first.”

Julia gives him a withering look. “Okay, Jamie Oliver,” she scoffs as she starts moving towards the sink in no apparent hurry.

David lets his eyes linger on her for a moment and then forces his attention back on the ingredients on the counter. He takes out a large bowl and has just started to scramble together everything he needs for the meatballs when he hears Julia’s voice over the running water:

“Is this something you often do with your children?” she asks suddenly. Her tone is conversational but not quite naturally so. David glances in her direction but finds her eyes fixed firmly on the hands she is still washing. 

The question gives him pause. They almost never speak of his family if they can avoid it and before today he had never allowed himself to think of these two parts of his life mixing, but now he finds himself wondering what it would be like to have Ella and Charlie here. He tries to imagine what Julia would make of them, or they of Julia - tries to picture her reaction to being introduced to them as the nice lady who helped Charlie get to the better school.

“Aye, sometimes,” he replies slowly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he lets the thought linger. David tries to return his attention to the ingredients, but he has barely time to refocus on the task before the water stops running and his eyes are instinctively drawn to Julia again.

As he turns to look, he finds her standing in the middle of the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, hands dripping with water and hair already threatening to fall on her face. It’s as domestic as he has ever seen her look and the sight of her in this new setting makes his heart unexpectedly swell inside his chest. For a moment, he finds the urge to simply walk up to her and kiss her almost overwhelming.

“What?” Julia asks, catching his look. She snatches the towel from his shoulder and steps back to dry her hands.

“Nothing,” David replies quickly, turning away to continue mixing the ingredients. He can feel Julia move closer again but this time he keeps his eyes steadfastly on the bowl, even when he feels her fingers briefly touch on his shoulder as she returns the towel.

David gives the mixture a few more solid turns and then finally looks up again, determined to keep his focus on the cooking.

“I need to start preparing the sauce,” he starts quickly, before any other urge can take over. He steps around Julia so that she is left standing between him and the bowl. “I thought you could have the honor of shaping this into meatballs,” he adds, starting to lean over her shoulder, arms already reaching around her sides to show her what to do before the intimacy of their respective positions suddenly catches up with him. 

As he himself tenses on the spot, he can see Julia freeze as well. For a moment, they are stuck at an impasse that neither seems to know how to break, but after a brief hesitation, David decides to simply move forward as he had started. Slowly, tentatively, he circles his arms around Julia from behind and reaches for her hands to guide them towards the bowl.

“Here, I’ll show you,” he says, his voice dropping as he leans close, mouth almost pressed to her ear.

“David...” Julia starts. There’s a hint of warning in her tone, which brings David to a halt, but then he can see her shoulders relax, can feel her body slump ever so slightly against his, and he allows himself to breathe again. It takes him a moment to pick up from where he had left off, but eventually he manages to focus on the bowl again, guiding Julia’s hands to the mixture in it.

“You take a handful,” he says, his voice still thick with suppressed emotion and desire as he picks up some of the ground beef and places it gently in the palm of Julia’s hand. “And then you…”

“I know how to squeeze balls, David,” Julia retorts impatiently before the moment can carry either of them away. “I do it for a living,” she adds under her breath as she takes the meat and starts shaping it into a neat ball.

David swallows back a cough. “Well, I...see you have this under control,” he says after a beat, arms still circled around Julia, hands hovering near hers, reluctant to break away. He wonders briefly if it is the intimacy of their respective positions, or the domesticity of the whole pursuit, that enchants him the most - the thought that, instead of a stolen moment, this could be part of their life together. 

“David?” Julia’s voice brings him back to the present and he takes a quick step back, afraid he has lingered too long.

“I’m sorry, I…” he starts to apologise, but Julia reaches out her hand, fumbling behind her back until she finds David’s arm to tap.

“Don’t be,” she says simply. David watches her for a moment in silence, absentmindedly touching the arm where her fingers had briefly met his skin and then finally forces his focus back on the meal he is trying to produce.

Reluctantly stepping away from Julia, he clears some space for himself near the stove and, for a while, they both work in silence at the opposite ends of the kitchen. As David gets on with chopping the ingredients he needs for the sauce, he keeps stealing glances in Julia’s direction but finds her either willfully ignoring him or so focused on her task that she barely seems to register his looks. He is just about to start heating the stove when, in the corner of his eye, he finally sees Julia pause with a meatball in hand.

“In the lift today, before the lights went out,” she starts slowly, turning to look at David, “you said you wanted to talk about something.”

David swallows. He has been so focused on Julia and taking her mind off the blackout that he hasn’t had time to give much thought to his earlier dilemma, opting to push it to the back of his mind instead. Now, unexpectedly called out, he doesn’t know where he would even start on that subject, at least not without a considerable preamble.

“I don’t know if this is the best time,” he replies evasively.

There’s a pregnant pause.

“I see,” Julia replies. She glances at David and then returns her gaze to the bowl. Another beat passes.

“You want to quit,” she says at last, her voice flat and betraying no sign of emotion as she continues shaping the ground beef into balls. “Is that it?”

Her question catches David by surprise. He stops what he is doing and waits for Julia to look at him but she doesn’t. Her face, as far as he can see it, looks impassive, even indifferent. He finds it discouraging.

“I don’t want to quit,” he says at last. No matter what he will end up choosing, that much at least is true. He doesn’t _want_ to quit. The whole truth, though, is much more complicated, and this is not how he had wanted to approach it. 

When Julia doesn’t reply, David mechanically takes out the frying pan just to give his hands something to do and starts the heat on the stove while he tries to sort out his thoughts. He finds a kettle for the spaghetti and absentmindedly fills it with water, struggling to find the right words to continue the conversation. He feels an almost overwhelming urge to simply tell Julia everything; relate to her the entire conversation he had with his therapist, but he doesn’t know where to start and can’t be sure if Julia would actually want to hear it.

“These are done now.” Her voice suddenly breaks the silence that has fallen in the room and it takes David a moment to understand what she means until he turns to look and finds her holding up a plate full of freshly shaped meatballs. Their eyes meet briefly but David finds her expression to be as blank as her voice remains flat, and his heart sinks at the stark change in her demeanour. 

He accepts the plate but immediately sets it down and takes Julia’s hands into his before she can move.

“Julia…I really don’t want to...” he starts, but she pulls her hands away and returns to the counter at the other end of the kitchen where her wine still waits. She picks up the glass but doesn’t drink from it.

“It’s probably for the best, really,” she starts in a clear cut voice that David knows belongs to the Home Office, not to the kitchen where she currently stands with her back turned to him. “This was never a good idea to begin with, us working together again. Let’s not pretend we don’t both know it.”

The words, spoken with no mitigating warmth, hit David with an unexpected force, and for a moment he doesn’t know what to say. If he allows himself to look at it that way, he can recognise the objective truth in Julia’s words - he has to admit that had their paths never crossed again, everything would certainly have been simpler. He might even have been tolerably happy with Vicky and the kids, had he not known of anything else. But all of that is purely hypothetical. It’s not the reality they are living now, and he knows with a sudden clarity of thought that he is not ready to erase everything he has experienced with Julia just to go back to what could have been. It dawns on him that even if it all were to end today, he wouldn’t trade these months with her for anything.

The thought that Julia might not feel the same way cuts through him painfully. 

“Is that truly what you think?” he asks, managing to keep his voice controlled and steady. He thinks of all the little moments they have shared together - moments he had thought had meant something for them both - and he wonders if he has misread her all this time, or perhaps let his own feelings colour his perception of hers. Perhaps whatever she felt for him once has cooled down to something that is easier to cut off than to deal with.

Julia doesn’t reply. She takes a large gulp of her wine and turns around, but even as her eyes fix briefly on David, he feels as if she is looking right through him, unseeing, unfeeling, her face the impenetrable mask of a distant monarch.

“Yes,” she says at last, her voice cracking a little. “It is.”

She starts quickly towards the living room, but pauses briefly in the doorway. ”I don’t really have to stay in this kitchen, do I?” she asks without turning to look at David.

He shakes his head, feeling utterly defeated. ”No,” he admits. ”Just...don’t go too far,” he adds quietly. “I still want to keep you safe.”

Julia swallows. She doesn’t move immediately and for a moment David lets himself hope that she has had a change of heart, that she is about to retract everything she has just said, but then she pulls her shoulders back and walks briskly out of the kitchen, leaving David alone with his thoughts.

He finishes the cooking with his mind in a blur, a kind of numbness settling over him as he mechanically goes through the familiar steps of preparing the dish they had started together. Somewhere in the back of his mind, an inner voice tries to remind him that at least he no longer has a difficult choice to make. If Julia doesn’t want him, his place must be with his wife and children, but as he lets his eyes wander to Julia, lounging on the sofa, staring idly out of the window with an unopened file in her lap, he cannot help but entertain the painful possibility that if she had only let him, he might have chosen her over the woman he had once thought to be the love of his life.

***

For the rest of the evening, the tension between them never fully dissipates. Once the dinner is ready, David ventures into the living room and finds Julia still on the sofa, now poring over a report, but she sets it down as soon as he enters and sits up abruptly, as if she had been caught slacking in a cabinet meeting. David clenches his jaw and tries to ignore the pain that washes over him anew when he sees her reaction to his presence.

“Dinner’s ready,” he says stiffly, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “I know you said you weren’t hungry but...there’s more than enough for two.”

He is fully prepared to be ignored or at least bluntly declined but, to his surprise, Julia immediately pushes her papers aside and gets up from the sofa.

“Okay,” she says, walking up towards David. Her eyes flit to his face and she places her hand briefly on his upper arm in what feels like a hollow peace offering. “Let’s eat then.”

David nods tensely and turns to watch as Julia continues on to the kitchen, walks up to a cupboard and takes out two plates and two glasses. She carries them to the dining table and then returns to the kitchen for cutlery.

They have never eaten like this before - a proper, home-cooked meal served on the table that is actually meant for eating. It’s certainly a far cry from the greasy takeaway they have sometimes unceremoniously shared across the two sofas and, if things were different right now, David cannot help thinking that it would almost feel like an invitation to enter deeper into Julia’s home life, like breaking another barrier between them, but as things stand now, this arrangement only feels distant and formal compared to their earlier meals.

As Julia shoots him an expectant look, David forces that thought aside and returns to the kitchen to pick up the spaghetti and meatballs. He sets them down between the two plates that Julia has placed on the table across from one another. She follows him with a bottle of wine in one hand and a soda in another.

“Whatever you prefer,” she says, managing to sound almost casual as she sets both of them down on the table before taking her seat. Instead of immediately replying, David studies her face for a moment. There is something undefinable in her expression that he tries to latch on to, wishing to find a sign there of anything that could give him hope of...he doesn’t even know what, but no matter how long he looks, he can’t seem to penetrate Julia’s thoughts. With a deep sigh, he follows suit and sits down across from her.

“I’m still on duty,” he finally says once he is seated, trying to mimic the blankness of her expression as he reaches for the soda.

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t,” she replies with a shrug as she picks up the wine.

Something about the casual ease of her demeanour, no matter how studied or false it might be, makes David bristle - as if all of this is somehow easy for her - as if it makes no difference to her whether they remain together even professionally or not.

“Because it’s my last night here?” he asks, not even trying to hide the bitterness in his tone. He thinks he can see something like pain flash briefly in Julia’s eyes as he speaks, but the look passes far too quickly for him to be certain.

“Hardly,” she replies after a beat, not sounding quite as unflappable as before as she fills her own glass almost to the brim with wine. “I didn’t say there was any hurry, I just...” She pauses, corks the wine, puts it down and finally looks at David again. “This was never going to work in the long term, was it?” Her tone is different now - softer, less certain, almost as if she hopes to be contradicted, but David doesn’t know how to interpret it.

He shakes his head, biting the insides of his cheeks. “I suppose not,” he admits reluctantly. If that’s what Julia truly wants, then he must learn to accept it. He had never found a way to completely let go of her while she was recovering from her injuries and he was trying to rebuild his life with Vicky but perhaps this time he will have more luck, knowing she no longer wants him by her side.

They look at each other for a moment as if both waiting for the other to say something more, but a few beats pass in silence until Julia finally breaks the eye contact to look down at her plate. When she looks at David again, she makes an attempt to smile.

“Well, let’s try those meatballs then,” she says with a cheerfulness that looks and sounds almost painfully forced.

“Yes, sure,” David replies but doesn’t even try to match Julia’s tone.

Despite the stilted conversation and periods of awkward silences, however, the dinner doesn’t turn out to be quite the unmitigated disaster that David had feared. He cannot help thinking that the moderate portion of spaghetti and meatballs that Julia helps herself to is more for his benefit than her own, and though she clearly has very little appetite, she makes a point of complimenting the sauce and remarking that the whole thing is “surprisingly edible”. The words themselves are not much, of course, but the slight twinkle of a smile accompanying them is enough to tell David that he has done well and, despite everything else, he is pleased to know it.

After the dinner, David quickly offers to clear the table and then starts cleaning up in the kitchen to keep himself busy. By the time he returns to the living room, the hour has grown late and he finds that Julia has already packed away her papers and files and looks ready to retire for the night.

Starting to finally think about the sleeping arrangements, David turns his eyes from Julia to one of the sofas, trying to ascertain its level of comfort.

“It’s not really meant for sleeping,” she says after a while, confirming the conclusion David had already arrived at.

“Aye, I can see that,” he replies, “but I can manage.” He doesn’t expect to sleep comfortably tonight no matter where he lies down.

“I’ll get you a pillow and some sheets,” Julia offers and disappears quickly into her bedroom. A few moments later, she comes back carrying a large pillow and a duvet.

As David starts arranging them on the sofa, he can see from the corner of his eye that, rather than slipping quietly away, Julia continues to stand a few steps away, watching him.

“I’m sorry, it’s not really the Ritz,” she says apologetically. 

David turns to face her and takes a step forward. “Nor the Blackwood,” he says quietly, almost reaching for Julia’s hand before he thinks better of it. He looks at her for a moment, remembering what it had felt like to wake up next to her in the morning light, how radiant she had looked between the white sheets, almost as if she herself had been the source of all that light. At the time he had thought he had forgotten how to feel happy, but he had felt happy that morning. _She_ had made him happy.

“Do you ever think about…” he starts, but then holds his tongue, clenching his jaw to keep his mouth shut. 

“Think about what?” Julia breathes. 

David shakes his head. “Nothing. It’s not important,” he lies. He reminds himself bitterly that it’s clearly not something she thinks about with a similar fondness if she wants all this to end. “Good night, Julia,” he says, the words coming out harsher than he might have intended.

“Good night, David,” Julia replies, coolly echoing his words back to him.

***

David doesn’t know how long he has slept when he suddenly wakes up with a jolt, his heart pounding in his chest, certain he has heard Julia’s voice. Before he can ascertain that he hadn’t simply been dreaming like so many times before, a muffled cry of panic breaks the silence in the apartment, and within an instant, David has grabbed his gun and is rushing towards Julia’s bedroom.

“Julia!” he cries out into the darkness, terrified that he might be too late - that an intruder might have his hands on her already - might even have...He bursts through the door and comes to a halt at the foot of the bed. Even in the pale light reflected from the street lamps outside, he can see Julia sitting up in her bed alone, hugging her knees, her damp, sweaty hair clinging to her face. 

His sudden entrance doesn’t appear to startle her much, his pounding footsteps and the sound of her own name having perhaps already alerted her to his imminent arrival, but she looks up at him when he steps forward, takes in a ragged breath, and follows David with her eyes as he quickly circles the bed and drops his gun on the nightstand.

“Julia,” he repeats in a voice barely above whisper. He looks at the empty side of the bed and hesitates for a moment, but when Julia reaches her hand out to him, he climbs in and pulls her wordlessly into his embrace without meeting any resistance. Instead, she simply melts into his arms and sobs quietly against his shoulder.

“Whatever it was, it was just a dream,” David whispers, running one hand soothingly up and down Julia’s back while cradling her head with another. “I’m here,” he continues, pressing his lips to the side of her head. “You’re safe.”

 _“I love you,”_ he adds to himself as he tightens his hold of her, but doesn’t say the words out loud. Instead, he continues to whisper simple words of assurance into Julia’s ear until he can feel her breathing grow steadier again, the tense muscles in her back relaxing under the palm of his hand. When it seems she has finally gotten everything out of her system, he pulls away enough to look at her tear-streaked face.

“Do you want to talk about it,” David asks, gently wiping her cheeks with his thumb.

Julia shakes her head, pulling slightly away. “Not now,” she replies weakly. For a moment David fears she is about to close off again, to start reconstructing the walls that, for a moment, had broken down so completely, but when she extracts herself from David’s arms and leans back against the frame of the bed, she still continues to hold on to his hand.

“Just…” she starts and then pauses, looking down at their joined hands.

David’s eyes follows hers and he gives her hand a squeeze. “Is there anything I can do?” he prompts. He doesn’t want to leave her side, but he knows he has to ask. “Is there anything I can go and get you, or anyone I can call? Do you need a doctor?”

Julia shakes her head. “Christ, no,” she replies, sounding a little more like herself again despite the tremor that hasn’t completely left her voice yet. She lifts her eyes to David and tugs at his hand. “Just...stay,” she adds softly.

David feels another rush of affection run through him as he looks into her dark eyes, more vulnerable than he has ever them. He wants to tell her he would stay forever if she let him, but instead he simply nods and shifts so that he is able to lift the covers, ready to slide in.

“Like this?” he asks, settling down on the empty side of the bed.

Julia nods, inching a little closer as she settles against her pillows too, their hands still joined under the covers.

For a while they both lie awake in complete silence, looking at each other in the dark without saying a word. Then Julia finally lets go of David’s hand and turns over to face the wall, giving David his second glimpse of the scarred skin of her back that her slip doesn’t cover. He hesitates only for an instant and then wraps his arm protectively around her from behind, relieved to feel Julia’s hand soon cover his over her stomach.

“David?” Her voice, barely above a whisper, finally breaks the long silence between them.

“Hmm?” he hums drowsily, the rollercoaster of a day finally starting to takes its toll on him. The part of him that is still awake, though, tenses at the thought that she might have changed her mind.

There’s another silence that seems to stretch on for so long that David wonders if Julia has already fallen asleep, but then he can feel the slight squeeze of her hand again.

“Just...thank you,” she whispers into the darkness as her foot slides between his.

David exhales quietly and allows all remaining tension to leave his body as he presses a lazy kiss on Julia’s scarred shoulder as his only response.

Within minutes they both drift off to an exhausted sleep.


	8. This is a terrible idea

When David opens his eyes, the room is bathed in the dim light of early morning. Even though the sun is not up yet, it’s no longer completely dark and he smiles to himself as his eyes immediately land on Julia’s sleeping face, for once completely at peace and there for him to look at without fear of being caught. She has rolled over to face him at some point during the night but she is still almost as close as when they had fallen asleep, her left hand tucked under a pillow and her right one resting on the mattress between them, only inches from David’s chest. He resists the urge to grab it, not wanting to disrupt her sleep.

Instead, he lets his eyes simply rest on her, quietly committing every inch of her face into memory, painfully aware that he might never have an opportunity to such an unguarded view again. His eyes travel slowly from the curve of her forehead to her impeccably sculpted eyebrows and long, dark lashes. They pause lovingly on the fine lines at the corner of her eye, partly covered by an errant lock of hair, and then move further down to a delicate cheekbone and defined jaw. All make-up removed and with no attempt at making an impression, she is to David the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, just the way she is. Letting out a breath, he gently reaches out his hand to push aside the bit of hair obstructing his view. He tucks it carefully behind Julia’s ear and then lets his fingers ghost over the side of her head, longing to touch but afraid he might wake her. 

He’s not used to this, waking up with a woman curled up right next to him. At home he shares a bed with Vicky now, but it’s never like this. Even after the rare times they have had sex, she always rolls over to her own side for the night, as far as the width of the bed will allow, making him feel like an unwanted, untrusted stranger in his own bed. David can’t fault Vicky for it, really - far from it - but at the same time he finds it hard not to compare her again to Julia and the trust she seems to bestow on him so willingly, even if it is all she has left in her heart to give him. 

Here, in a bed he has never slept in before, with a woman who isn’t his wife, he feels more at home than he has felt anywhere in months, maybe even in years. The realisation gives him pause and for a moment David is so lost in his own thoughts that he starts when Julia suddenly stirs. He draws his hand away quickly and tries to appear as if he, too, is only just waking.

He blinks slowly and watches as Julia’s eyes open and close and then open again. If he had half expected, based on previous experience at home, to see her recoil at the sight of him so near, he is relieved to find no sign of alarm on Julia’s face as her eyes slowly focus on him.

“Morning,” he says when it is clear they are both awake. His lips curve hopefully into a slight, tentative smile. 

“Morning,” Julia replies, and for a fleeting moment she seems to return David’s smile. They continue to look at each other for some time until she drops her eyes to the small space between them on the mattress where both of their hands still rest without touching.

“I’m sorry about last night,” she says after a beat, her eyes eventually returning to David. She looks serious now, no trace of a smile left on her lips. “For waking you up. I shouldn’t have...”

“You can’t control your dreams, Julia,” David interrupts her. The last thing he wants to hear is apologies, especially when there is nowhere else he would rather be. He looks at their hands on the mattress and nudges his own forward until his fingers graze her knuckles. When Julia doesn’t reply, he looks up at her again. “Do they happen often? Those dreams.”

Julia takes in a deep breath. There’s an odd look in her eyes when she looks at David and she seems to be weighing her words carefully. “Not that often...not anymore,” she starts slowly. “But last night was…” she trails off. There’s a moment of hesitation and then she turns her hand over on the mattress and opens her palm, allowing David’s fingers to intertwine with hers. “It was different,” she continues at last. “It was worse,” she finishes quietly, looking at their joined hands.

David waits for her to elaborate but she doesn’t. Finally he shifts and inches a little closer but doesn’t say anything, taking a moment to simply look at Julia. Her duvet has slipped down to her waist and in the increasing light he can see a patch of scorched skin on her upper arm that he hasn’t noticed before. It looks lighter, less severe than the scarring he has previously seen on Julia’s back but it’s another reminder of the damage her body has suffered. And David knows better than anyone that what her body has suffered is only the visible part of the whole.

“In what way?” he prompts when neither has spoken for a while.

Julia considers his question for a moment but then shakes her head, as if resolutely pushing away an unwanted thought or memory. “I’d rather not think about it now,” she evades. She looks at David and starts to lift her free hand as if intending to touch his face, but then appears to have a sudden change of heart. She pulls her hand back and tries to extract the other one from David’s hold as she starts to sit up, but he tugs at her fingers gently, not letting her go.

“Stay,” he makes a simple plea, not yet ready for this moment to end. “It’s still early.”

Julia looks towards the window. The light is steadily increasing but the sun is not yet over the horizon. She looks at the clock on her nightstand and seems to waver. “I should catch up with work,” she replies but without much conviction, slowly sinking back against her pillow.

David contemplates his options. He looks down at their linked hands and wonders how something that feels so simple can be so overwhelmingly complicated. He feels a new sense of certainty over the workings of his own heart but at the same time, everything he thinks he knows about Julia’s feelings towards himself seems to be made up entirely of contradicting observations that leave him hanging somewhere between a faint hope and complete uncertainty.

“Do you really want me replaced?” he asks after a beat, lifting his eyes to Julia’s.

He half expects her to pull her hand away and go through with her initial attempt of getting out of the bed, but instead she only draws in a deep breath, almost as if she had already anticipated the question. Her eyes travel to their joined hands as well, and then back to David’s face.

He can read the answer in her eyes before she even speaks.

“Why?” he asks as his heart sinks. 

Perhaps he had been foolish to hope that one night wrapped in each other’s arms might have changed her mind. Perhaps she had needed comfort, but not from him specifically. He had only happened to be there at the time she needed it. And yet he thinks there is something in her eyes that seems to suggest that it's not all there is.

As if unable to bear David’s probing look, Julia shifts uncomfortably and then rolls over to her back to face the ceiling. “Does it really matter?” she asks, letting out a sigh. 

David props himself up on his elbow to see her better.

“It matters to me,” he replies. _You matter to me_ , he adds silently to himself.

Julia doesn’t reply. She keeps her eyes on the ceiling for a moment and then shifts again, angling her body so that David can see her face more easily.

“Isn’t it quite obvious?” she counters, her index finger touching lightly on the elbow that David still leans on, her soft tone seemingly at odds with the words that sound almost cold. “Nothing good can come of this.”

“Nothing good?” David repeats incredulously. “Julia, that’s…”

“Don’t,” she interrupts him quickly, almost as if afraid to hear what he might say if she let him. “Will you ask to be reassigned today?” she continues almost without pause, segueing into what sounds like a rehearsed speech. “It will sound much better if the initiative is yours. If I ask for it, it will come across as if I’m dissatisfied with your work, and you know that’s not the case.” She looks at him with a fondness that, accompanied by almost any other words, might have filled David with hope. Now he only feels a knot in his stomach as he listens to her speak, realising she must already have given this some serious thought.

“I don’t want this to affect your career,” she finishes softly and then attempts a smile to lighten her last blow: “You can tell your superior officer that I’m a horrid cow and you don’t want to work with me anymore. I’m sure he’d have no trouble believing that.”

David knows he is expected to acknowledge the joke, but he can only muster a frown in return. “But that would be a lie,” he says simply, unwilling to accept the supposedly easy way out he has been offered. “Besides, I told the opposite to my therapist just yesterday.”

Julia looks at him in surprise and David feels a perverse satisfaction for having apparently derailed her carefully thought out plan. She remains silent for a moment.

“You talk about me to your therapist?” she asks at last. David notes that she doesn’t sound cross, merely curious.

For a brief moment, he thinks of pouring everything out. He thinks of telling Julia all he talked about with Dr. Richards - not just regarding work but also about the woman he might love more than his wife - but then he looks at Julia and his uncertainty over her reaction wins.

“He wanted to know how work was going for me,” David replies simply. “I told him everything was fine.”

“I see,” Julia replies. She pauses for a beat as she looks at David. “Is it?” she then asks.

“It has been until now,” he replies.

Julia considers his words for a moment. “Have you never thought of doing anything else?” she asks then.

David pauses, wondering where this conversation is now going. “Not as long as I have you to protect,” he replies honestly, lifting his hand to run a finger down the light scarring on her arm. “I want to keep you safe, as long as you will let me.”

Julia doesn’t reply. She shuts her eyes firmly and then takes in a deep, shaky breath before releasing it slowly. When she opens her eyes again, David tries to read her expression but she avoids his eyes and pulls her hand away.

“It’s a dangerous job for someone with children,” she says at last, looking at the empty space between them.

“So is yours,” David counters.

“I don’t have children,” Julia retorts. She pauses and suddenly looks at David again. She opens her mouth as if to say something but then closes it without a word.

“Is that supposed to mean your life is worth less?” David starts, frowning. “Because I don’t…”

“That’s not what I meant,” she interrupts him impatiently. “It just means I don’t have other people to consider.”

“What about me?” David asks, holding his breath.

Julia doesn’t reply and he takes a moment to mull over her earlier words, still unwilling to admit defeat.

“You still haven’t answered why you really want me gone,” he tries one more time after a brief silence. He looks at Julia and waits for her to meet his eyes. “Are you tired of me?”

Julia looks at him and then shifts. For a moment, she doesn’t seem to know how to answer.

“Is that what you want to hear?” she asks at last, a note of resignation in her voice as she lets out a breath. 

David considers for a moment and then, on a sudden impulse, lifts his hand to run the tips of his fingers down her jaw, savouring the touch that she doesn’t recoil from.

“Yes,” he says seriously, his hand still caressing her face as he looks at her intently. “Look me in the eye and tell me you’re tired of me if that’s the case.”

Again, Julia doesn’t answer.

“You can’t,” he says, his voice barely rising above a whisper.

Julia’s eyes dart to his mouth and linger there. “Oh, I’m tired of you,” she breathes, her fingers rising up to touch his chin. “You’re completely exhausting, David Budd.”

David doesn’t know who makes the next move first. Perhaps they both do at the same time. All he knows is that suddenly his lips are on hers and it’s slow and languid and it feels too right to either stop or to hurry because all he really wants is for it to last forever.

Somewhere in the back of his mind a small voice tries to remind him that this is not what they should be doing, for several very valid reasons, but then he can feel Julia’s hands tugging at his t-shirt and he cannot name a single valid reason not to keep going.

He lifts himself off his elbow long enough to throw away his shirt and then leans down to kiss Julia again. He grins into her mouth as he nibbles at her lower lip and then coaxes her to sit up with him as he sneaks his hands underneath her and pulls her towards him. He shifts and settles his back against the frame of the bed and then pulls her sideways into his lap in one fluid motion, their lips never parting for long in the process.

“This is a terrible idea,” Julia breathes as David’s mouth moves to her neck and she throws her head back to give him better access.

David grunts his agreement just before his mouth lands on a tender patch of skin that he sucks into his mouth with reckless abandon, fueled by an almost fervent desire to somehow mark her as his own. To his surprise, Julia seems to allow this action, her fingers raking through his hair while his face remains buried in her neck, but when he lifts his head and his hands move to the straps of her slip, he can suddenly sense a new kind of reluctance in her.

“It’s okay,” he breathes, placing a kiss on her shoulder and working his way down to where her scarring starts. “It’s okay,” he repeats, lifting his eyes to Julia, quietly seeking permission. She nods almost imperceptibly and allows David to remove the garment still covering her, lifting her arms as he pulls it over her head. 

As her arms come down and Julia leans back against her hands, almost as if presenting herself for inspection, David takes in what he can see from the angle he is in: burned skin all the way down her right side and a large surgical scar over her hip that extends down her leg, suggesting an operation to save the limb. Her right breast also bears the scars of two lacerations from what must have been flying shrapnel, but her left side, as far as he can see, appears intact.

David traces the surgical scar with his finger and then lifts his eyes to Julia’s face again, seeing the apprehension clearly written in her features despite an obvious attempt at detachment. Without a word, he pulls her to his arms and cradles the back of her head with one hand while running the other down the scarred tissue of her back.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers in her ear, his words followed by his lips as he continues what he had started before, trailing kisses down her neck until he finds another tender spot that elicits a quiet moan from Julia. The sound is enough to jolt David into further action and he slides both of his hands down to Julia’s waist, lifting her enough to flip her from his lap to her back while he climbs on top of her.

He is about to lower his mouth to Julia’s breasts, one hand already reaching down between her thighs, when suddenly the sound of his phone ringing in the living room makes them both freeze on the spot.

“Shit,” David mutters, reluctantly removing his hand and raising his head. In the back of his mind there is a nagging thought that he is still on duty and it could be work, but he doesn’t immediately move to unstraddle Julia, looking at her with an unspoken question instead. If she wants to continue, he has no intention of taking that call.

To David’s disappointment, however, Julia hoists herself up on her elbows after a brief consideration and before she even speaks, he can feel the change in her demeanour.

“You should go,” she says, reaching for her discarded duvet and pulling it over to cover her chest before falling back against the pillows. David looks at her for a moment and then reluctantly lets out a sigh and climbs off.

He makes his way out of the bedroom in hurried footsteps and locates his phone on the table next to the sofa where he had left it the night before. He has already missed the call, but seeing as it had come from his boss, he dials back and duly makes his excuses. It turns out the Metropolitan Police has the information he had been hoping to hear: that the power cut at the Home Office has been thoroughly investigated and the problem appears to have been a purely technical one that has already been taken care of. There is no reason why the Home Secretary could not return to work as usual.

“Thank you, Sir,” David replies once all the details have been relayed to him. He is then further informed that since he has been on duty all night, he is released from any obligations for the rest of the day and that PC Fenton will be over to collect the Home Secretary later.

David listens to all this with very few words in between, quietly taking in the information. Then he thanks his boss and puts his phone away, not unhappy with the news, but regretting it couldn’t have come a little later in the morning.

He takes in a deep breath, walks back to the bedroom, and isn’t surprised to find Julia already out of bed. She is wearing her slip again and appears to be busying herself with picking clothes for the day, but she pauses when David re-enters the room.

“Well?” she asks, turning away from her wardrobe, her eyes dropping briefly to David’s boxers that he knows must still be bulging.

“All clear at the Home Office,” David replies, covering his front with his hands, striving for some remnants of a professional appearance. “The power failure was due to construction work happening in the neighbouring building and I don’t know if I fully understood the specifics, but I think in layman’s terms some idiot cut off the wrong power cable.”

“Christ,” Julia mutters, looking down at the floor, and for a moment she appears to be lost in thought. “All this trouble over something so…” she trails off, her eyes pausing briefly on David’s front again as they make their way up to his face where she clearly makes a concentrated effort to focus. “Well, it doesn’t matter now,” she finishes with determination. “I’m glad all is clear.”

David nods and then lingers awkwardly by the door.

“I should probably get dressed,” he says at last, accepting that whatever had started between them is clearly not going to go on now.

Julia looks at him again, a little flustered, but with an obvious attempt at remaining aloof.

“I’m sorry about...” she starts and gestures with her hand vaguely but then closes her mouth and turns her attention back to her wardrobe. “I don’t know what came over me.” She pauses, bites her lip, and then stares blankly at her rows of clothes as if struggling to continue with her morning routine.

“Probably the stress of the last 24 hours, nothing more,” David offers her an out, but his voice sounds brusque even to his own ears.

Julia is silent for a beat and then continues to shuffle through blazers that all look more or less the same to David.

“Yes, that must be it,” she says at last, still not meeting David’s eyes.

David watches her for a moment, wishing she would turn to at least look at him, but when she doesn’t, he finally lets his shoulders fall and cannot think of another reason to linger.

“PC Fenton will be here later to pick you up,” he says, trying to find his formal tone. “I will be out of your hair in a few minutes.”

At this, Julia’s eyes quickly dart to David but she stops short of saying anything.

“I’m off duty for the rest of the day,” David explains. “But if you really want it, I will talk to my boss and ask to be reassigned.” He pauses and waits for Julia to contradict him. She doesn’t. Instead, she simply looks at him for a moment and David wonders if he only imagines the warring emotions he thinks he sees flickering in her eyes. Eventually, however, she seems to arrive at a conclusion that appears final.

“I do want it,” she says, looking at David still, but with eyes so soft that he struggles to understand the connection between her words and the way she looks at him now.

He swallows, almost opens his mouth to ask one more time why, but then decides against it, knowing it won’t be to any avail. Instead, he takes a deep breath and then nods his head curtly.

“Very well, ma’am,” he says, clenching his jaw as he moves to collect his weapon off the nightstand. “I will do as you wish.” He pauses when he reaches the door again and gives Julia one more lingering look. One more chance to change her mind.

She remains silent.

“Ma’am.” David bows his head slightly and then spins quickly around to hide the pained expression he cannot keep at bay as he stalks out of the room.

***

Julia watches him go and flinches as the door slams between them with a sound of finality. She can feel the sting of unshed tears in her eyes but wills them away with the same resolve that keeps her from following David into the living room. She listens to his footsteps fade and then sinks back down onto the bed, a hollow feeling quickly replacing the warmth that his touch had briefly filled her with. Her eyes land on the discarded t-shirt crumpled between the sheets and she picks it up, starts to smooth the still warm fabric with her fingers and then crumples it again in her fist.

She lets her eyes travel to the door and for a moment considers going after David, if only to return his shirt, but she decides against it.

It’s only a t-shirt. He must have several.

She smooths the fabric again and folds it neatly in her lap, staring down at it as she listens to David move about on the other side of the door, probably getting dressed in what sounds like a hurry. When she hears his footsteps suddenly approach, she straightens her back and quickly sets the t-shirt aside, but he doesn’t enter the room.

“Julia.” She hears his voice from the other side, but doesn’t trust her own voice enough to answer.

“I’m going now,” he continues after a heavy beat and pauses again to wait for Julia’s response.

“Goodbye, David,” she forces herself to speak, gripping his shirt with her fingers.

The silence that follows stretches on for so long that Julia begins to wonder if David has quietly left, but then she hears his voice again, low and barely audible, but infused with quiet determination:

“Goodbye, Julia.”

It feels final.

Julia listens to the sound of his footsteps quickly moving further away and waits to hear the sound of the main door opening and closing as he exists her apartment. Once she is certain that David is gone, she picks up his shirt again, almost brings it up to her nose to inhale his scent, but then stands up instead, walks over to her closet and shoves it in with an unnecessary amount of force.

It’s only a t-shirt.


	9. She used to be my principal

The next few months pass in a blur for David as his life shifts from one reality to another. Instead of asking to be reassigned, he hands in his resignation, citing himself unfit for active duty, which conveniently puts him on desk duty for the period of his notice. It’s not that he hates working as a bodyguard, but the thought of having to start over with a new principal who isn’t Julia simply doesn’t appeal to him anymore. Besides, he knows too many of Julia’s obnoxious colleagues by now to risk being assigned to any of them instead of her. He would give his life for Julia without hesitation, whether his job required it or not, but he is not sure he wouldn’t personally push the likes of Roger Penhaligon under a bus if the opportunity presented itself.

Instead, he hands over his badge and finds work in the private sector, protecting the homes and lives of those with more money and influence than anyone should be allowed to have. He doesn’t love it, but the work is less time consuming, less risky, and it pays better. Rather than constantly being tied to one principal with an unforgiving schedule, he makes security checks in private homes and is occasionally called upon to see to the security preparations of private, high-end events and parties where well-to-do members of society mix for purposes of either charity or pure frivolity. If his eyes scan the guest lists for Julia’s name whenever he is put in charge of what he considers one of those “posh dos”, he chalks it up to force of habit and tries not to think anything more of it.

After the holidays, with encouragement from his new therapist, he talks to Vicky about his feelings regarding their relationship and is relieved to find her on the same page with him: as much as they would love for their marriage to still work, for the sake of their kids, it simply doesn’t anymore. They are no longer the same people who once fell in love and they are both ready to admit that they never will be again. Even with Julia out of the picture, David can no longer see himself feeling for Vicky what he still does for Julia, and he suspects that Vicky too might still harbour some feelings for the man she had briefly dated during their separation. For both of their sakes, they decide they are better off as simply friends and co-parents.

By February, David has moved out of the family home and into a new flat with enough room for Charlie and Ella to come and stay for weekends, or even for longer whenever they want to. Before, when forced to live by himself, he had felt alone and trapped in a life that didn’t feel like his own, but now, as he steps over the threshold of his newly refurbished apartment and looks at the pictures of his children on the walls and the light coming in through the windows, he feels at home and at peace in a way he has not felt in years, except for those all too brief moments with Julia when she had been his home and his safe harbour.

He misses her more than he is prepared to fully acknowledge even to himself and takes to watching the news with more frequency than he has ever done before, just for a chance glimpse of the RH Julia Montague, MP, addressing the House or giving a comment to the press afterwards. He would much rather be looking at and listening to the Julia he knows privately, instead of the politician he still rarely agrees with, but he learns to settle for what is available to him. One day, when he sees a magazine that he thinks has managed to capture something of the real Julia in its featured photograph, he quietly sets the paper aside and later cuts off the picture for keeping.

He still has her number in his contacts, too - a private one, not part of the contacts list on his old work phone that he handed in with his badge - but he never gets further than looking at her name on the screen, willing the phone to ring, even when it never does. For all he knows, the number might no longer even be in service, but he prefers to hold on to the illusion that he could still pick up his phone and call her if he really, really wanted to. Or if he dared to.

***

It is late March, almost four months to the day since he last saw Julia in person, when the unexpected suddenly happens. David, having picked up Ella and Charlie from their respective schools to spend the weekend with him, decides to take them home via the nearest fish and chips joint, partly as a treat, partly because he simply hasn’t had time to prepare anything for dinner.

They have barely stepped inside the shop when his attention is quickly drawn to a police car stopping outside, followed by a black BMW, followed by an obvious service vehicle bringing up the rear. The police car moves a little further away soon, but the other two remain.

“Daddy?” David feels Charlie tugging at his hand and looks down at his little boy and then at Ella who is standing a little further away - too big now to want to hold Daddy’s hand in public.

“Let’s just step outside for a minute,” he says, unable to resist the pull that the two vehicles have suddenly ignited in him. It feels like a long shot, and yet his gut tells him there could be something to it. He knows that it wouldn’t be the first time for her to resort to a quick take-away on her way home, even though the hour is earlier than he would have expected. “There might be someone Daddy knows in that car,” he adds after a beat, hoping he has not lost his mind.

“Can I wait here?” Ella asks, looking at the small convoy of cars suspiciously. David considers for a moment, assesses the risk as he looks around the familiar food joint, and decides there is no harm in him stepping out alone for a moment in this neighbourhood.

“Will you stay with your sister?” David asks, looking down at Charlie. “Daddy will be just outside that door and you can see me through the window and I can see you the whole time.” He points towards the large window of the shop and watches as a man dressed in a black suit steps out from the front passenger side and stands by to survey the environment as he speaks into his earpiece.

Charlie doesn’t let go of his hand. “Can I come with you?” he asks. David sighs. If it is indeed Julia in the car, as he wildly hopes, he isn’t sure how she would feel about him coming up to her with a child in tow, but he is too anxious to get to the car to lose any time arguing.

“Okay then,” he concedes, his eyes sweeping to Ella. “Don’t move, don’t talk to anyone,” he instructs her. “If it’s who I think it is and if she will see me, it’s possible we will be asked to sit inside the car for a moment to not draw attention but I promise we’re not going anywhere and we’ll be back in two minutes.”

Ella nods a little uncertainly and agrees to do as she has been told. David brushes her shoulder, gives her one more reassuring look and then steps out with Charlie. They only make it to the threshold before almost running into the man in black who has circled the car and is now walking briskly towards the shop. David immediately seizes the opportunity and stops him discreetly by the entrance, knowing if he wants to avoid causing a scene, he must get through the PPO first.

“Sir, is this by any chance Lavender’s vehicle?” he speaks in a low voice so as not to be overheard by any passers by.

The other man tenses and David can see his hand moving closer to his weapon. “Why are you asking?” he asks tersely.

The reaction is almost all the answer David needs and he feels adrenaline suddenly rushing through his veins.

“My name is David Budd,” he explains quickly. “I’m a former Police Sergeant and PPO. She used to be my principal and I’ve done this run myself before, which is why I thought it might be her in the car. If she is here I would like to say hello.”

“David Budd?” The man repeats but still eyes him suspiciously. Despite his impatience, David is pleased to see that at least he appears to be doing his job thoroughly.

“Look, I no longer have my badge, but if you let me reach into my wallet, I can show you an ID,” David starts but before the PPO can respond, there seems to be traffic in his earpiece and he pauses to listen. He looks back to the service vehicle and then at David and finally nods his head.

“Fine,” he says at last, glancing towards the principal’s car. “The guys in the service vehicle have identified you but I will have a word with Lavender first. Wait here and don’t approach before I give you permission.”

He walks back to the car, disappears into his seat for a moment and, after what feels like an agonizing wait, finally returns to David.

“She will see you but I won’t have you stand about with a door or window open,” the man says, frowning. “You will walk up to that car, open the back door on this side of the road when the driver unlocks it, take a seat and keep the door shut as long as you’re inside. This is a public street and we’re exposed enough as it is.”

“I understand completely,” David replies. He thinks of Ella waiting inside and turns to look at her through the window. When their eyes meet, he gives her a slight nod and points towards the car, hoping she will understand the gesture. Then, tugging at Charlie’s hand, he crosses the pavement and steps up in front of the car, waits to hear the sound of the door unlocking and then pulls it open. He lets his eyes only briefly flit to Julia to assure himself she truly is there before he sits down, pulls Charlie into his lap and then pulls the door shut as instructed.

“Ma’am,” he says awkwardly once everybody is locked in, not quite sure how he is expected to address her now. Julia looks briefly in his direction but her eyes seem to pause on Charlie rather than himself before she fixes them on the back of the seat in front of her again.

“Mr. Budd,” she returns his greeting with the same level of formality. Then they both fall silent.

David had pictured many different chance meetings between himself and Julia over the last four months, but in none of those scenarios had they been crammed in the back seat of her BMW with Charlie in his lap, the ministerial box wedged between them, and the driver sitting behind the wheel, pretending not to listen.

”Hi, Kevin,” David finally thinks to greet him.

“Take five, Kevin,” Julia quickly follows his words, still not actually looking at David.

“But, ma’am...” the driver starts to protest.

“You’ll be right outside. I doubt Mr. Budd has come here to kidnap me,” she retorts dryly, finally letting her eyes briefly land on David himself. Somewhere behind the aloof exterior of Julia Montague, MP, he thinks he can catch a glimpse of his Julia before she looks away again.

“Right, ma’am,” Kevin replies, knowing better than to argue. He looks at David, nods his head, and then opens the door and steps outside. “I will be right here,” he leans in to say and then closes the door, leaving David finally alone with Julia and Charlie. 

“I’m sorry to intrude,” he starts as soon as the door is shut, feeling that some explanation might be required. “I saw the cars and I thought…I just had to...” he trails off, watching Julia twist her hands in her lap as he tries to read her body language. She doesn’t appear outright displeased to see him, but neither does she seem comfortable in his presence. Unless, he wonders, it is the presence of his son that is causing the friction. If so, he doesn’t know if there is anything further they can say to each other.

“Daddy?” As if on cue, Charlie’s voice interrupts his thoughts and suddenly Julia turns her head, too, as if woken from a reverie of her own. Something in her eyes seems to soften as they land on the little boy again, and David releases his breath.

“This is Julia Montague,” he whispers to Charlie. “She’s Daddy’s…” He hesitates, not quite sure what she is to him now.

“Former work colleague,” Julia finishes for him, extending her hand to Charlie. David feels the sting of her words, of being relegated to nothing more than a former colleague, but still he can’t help but feel an odd sense of satisfaction at the thought of Julia finally meeting at least one of his children - perhaps not under the circumstances he might have hoped, but meeting nevertheless - and he is touched by how willingly she seems ready to engage with his son.

“How do we greet people, Charlie?” he whispers to the boy and nudges him a little in Julia’s direction when, rather than taking the offered hand, he simply continues to stare.

“Oh it’s alright,” Julia replies, looking unbothered as she pulls her hand back. Her eyes flit to David but she says nothing more.

“No, he should learn,” David insists, looking down at Charlie who still seems to be looking at Julia very intently. His behaviour with strangers has been improving considerably following the change of schools, but there are times when his manners are still difficult to predict.

“I know you,” Charlie suddenly pipes up, pointing at Julia before David has a chance to admonish him further.

Julia’s eyes return to Charlie and her lips curve into a smile. David notes with relief that she looks amused rather than offended by Charlie’s unpolished behaviour.

“People do say that,” she replies and then, to David’s surprise, she leans a little closer to Charlie over the ministerial box. “Have you perhaps seen me on TV?” she asks in a loud whisper as if the two were now secretly conspiring.

Charlie considers the question for a moment and then shakes his head. “No,” he whispers back. “You’re the pretty lady my daddy has a picture of in…”

“That’s quite enough Charlie,” David interrupts him quickly, feeling his face redden. “It’s probably just a newspaper he saw,” he tries to explain when Julia turns her eyes to him, unspoken question written in them. “You know The Times had that spread a few weeks ago and it was probably left lying around.”

For a fraction of a second David holds his breath, unsure of what kind of reaction to expect, but Julia seems to accept David’s explanation without any comment because, after a short silence, she turns her eyes to Charlie again.

“You think I’m pretty, do you?” She raises her eyebrows at Charlie and David suddenly feels almost jealous of the ease with which she seems to be able to converse with his son while barely even acknowledging his own presence.

“Very pretty,” Charlie replies enthusiastically, forgetting that they were whispering. “And you smell nice,” he announces even more loudly.

At this, Julia actually laughs. It’s a quiet, contained chuckle, but her amusement is written clearly on her face as she looks at Charlie. “Do I?” she replies, smiling at the boy. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Her eyes, still smiling, lift up to David who, having watched the exchange with a mixture of pain and delight, immediately feels his own mood improve. 

“He is right,” he agrees, feeling suddenly bold. “You are pretty and smell nice.”

Julia holds his gaze for a moment and David hopes it might be an opening for something more, but then she averts her eyes and looks down at Charlie instead. “Flatterers, the both of you,” she tells him but there is something different in the smile she now tries to hide. 

Suddenly concerned that all this might come to an end too soon, David glances out of the window and sees the PPO still inside the fish and chips shop, waiting for his order. There is time, but not much, and David doesn’t know how to launch into any of the speeches he had often thought about in case he ran into her - not with the clock ticking and Charlie there on his lap, making any truly private conversation virtually impossible. Instead, he simply looks on as Charlie starts to ask questions about the red box on the seat between them and Julia patiently explains to him its concept in a very clear, matter of fact way that seems to resonate well with Charlie. It makes David wonder briefly if, before law and politics, Julia had ever considered a life in teaching because it appears to him that she would have been a natural. Stern but fair. Knowledgeable but able to part her knowledge in a way that becomes easy to understand.

As David watches the heartwarming exchange unfolding before him, he simultaneously takes in Julia’s appearance with quiet appreciation. In truth, she looks more than pretty. Her hair has grown a little longer in the time they have been apart and the cheeks that had seemed almost hollow just a few months ago appear to have regained some of their natural softness. He has never seen her not look beautiful, but now it looks as if her health, too, might finally be returning to what it was before.

“Can I see what’s inside the box?” David suddenly hears Charlie ask and his mind is brought back to the present.

He watches as Julia shakes her head, looking serious except for a glint in her eyes that seems to be holding back a smile. “I’m afraid not,” she replies gravely. “The documents inside are very secret and only I am allowed to look at them.”

Charlie looks suitably impressed. “Because you’re a Home Secr…?” he struggles with the word.

“Secretary,” Julia helps him, pronouncing the word with her crystal clear elocution.

Charlie nods enthusiastically. “I want to be Home Secretary when I grow up,” he says, getting the word right this time and then turning to look at David. “Can I?”

David chuckles, looking at Julia over the ministerial box and mouthing a thank you before turning to Charlie again.

“Perhaps, if you study hard,” he replies, giving him a light squeeze and then pressing his lips to the top of his head. “You can be anything if you do that, isn’t that so?” He turns to Julia again, who suddenly seems to be blinking something from her eye.

“Your father is right,” Julia replies, flipping her hair back and picking something from the corner of her eye before meeting David’s eyes briefly and then turning to Charlie again. “But if you truly want to enter politics, then perhaps you should aim to be a Prime Minister.”

Charlie frowns, looking at Julia. “But you’re not Prime Minister.”

Julia chuckles, this time without much mirth, as her eyes flit to David and then back at Charlie. “No, I’m not,” she replies, twisting her signet ring in her hand. “I thought once I might become Prime Minister but I don’t think I will now.”

This, to David, seems like a piece of news he had not expected to hear casually dropped in a conversation between Julia and his son. Not that she had once thought to become Prime Minister, but that apparently she no longer does. He looks at Julia quizzically but she doesn’t return his look.

“Then I don’t want to be either,” Charlie decides.

“I think that’s enough of that now,” David says, suddenly feeling anxious that the PPO could return at any moment when he has barely exchanged any words with Julia himself. “Julia…” he starts, shifting Charlie in his lap so that the boy is closer to the side of the door and no longer directly facing Julia. “It’s been good to see you,” he says, unable to think of anything else in the moment.

Julia looks at him for a moment, her face unreadable. “You resigned from the police,” she says, finally addressing him directly. It’s a simple statement that doesn’t seem to contain either praise or censure.

“I did,” David replies. He pauses and gives Charlie a little tug before the child can chime in again. “I work for private security now,” he then continues. “Homes and events, that sort of things,” he explains a little awkwardly.

Julia takes in the information and then nods. “Good,” she says and then pauses, uncertain. “Or is it?”

“The pay is better.” David shrugs. “Manageable hours, less of a health hazard. I suppose it’s good.” _But I never see you now_ , he adds to himself.

He thinks he sees Julia almost smile, as if she is pleased with his response. “That sounds good,” she says evenly. “I’m glad.”

They both fall silent for a beat. Julia twists her hands again and looks indecisive.

“David, there’s something...” she starts, but just as she is about to continue, the front passenger door is yanked open and the PPO’s head pops in.

“Ma’am,” he says. “We’re ready to go.” He gives David a stern look that tells him he should make himself scarce but David’s attention is drawn more to the two packs of food the man is holding before he sets them down on the front seat and then steps aside for a moment to speak into his earpiece and survey the street.

“Two meals?” he turns to Julia and suddenly feels his insides turning. WIth Charlie present, he bites his tongue and doesn’t ask, but his eyes dart quickly to the bodyguard standing outside and then back to Julia.

“I’m expecting company,” she replies curtly as she smooths her trousers and then runs a hand through her hair. She looks at David and he can see her discomposure clearly.

“Julia, don’t tell me...” David starts, glancing again at the man outside who seems to be exchanging words with the driver now.

Julia’s eyes follow his and then snap quickly to David as it clearly dawns on her what he is silently asking. “Him?” she huffs. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

She pauses and then looks at Charlie again, ignoring David.

“It was a pleasure to meet you but I’m afraid we must be getting on now.”

“Julia, I’m sorry if I…” David starts, but just then the two front doors open and both the driver and the bodyguard step in, making any further conversation impossible.

“Time to go, Mr. Budd,” the man quips from the front seat. “We have to get Lavender on the move.”

David nods. He looks at Julia one more time as Charlie says his goodbyes, trying to somehow convey with his eyes what he hasn’t been able to say out loud, but Julia doesn’t meet his gaze anymore. She smiles at Charlie one more time and then watches as David opens the car door and lifts the boy to the ground.

“David,” she says suddenly just as he is about to get out.

David pauses and looks at her with bated breath.

“You should read the papers,” she says cryptically and then quickly turns away to either hide her face or to simply look out of the opposite window. Either way, the conversation seems to be at an end. David frowns in confusion but steps out of the car to join Charlie on the pavement as he can sense the PPO’s impatience to get moving. 

They step back off the curb and watch as the small convoy takes off. Charlie waves enthusiastically at the two cars gliding away and David wonders, as he mulls over Julia’s last words, if somewhere behind the darkened glass, she might be waving back at the boy. They then walk back into the shop and find Ella waiting by the door.

“Who was that?” she asks as soon as they join the queue inside.

“Julia Montague,” David replies absently, still trying to understand what Julia had meant with her parting comment. “She used to be my...principal.”

Ella shrugs. “The Home Secretary?” she then suddenly asks. “I think there was a picture of her in that paper over there. I flipped through it while waiting.” She nods towards the table by the window, nearest to the door. David swallows.

“Just...wait with Charlie here for a minute and hold our spot,” he says quickly. “I’ll take a quick look.”

With that, he darts to the table and grabs the paper, leafing through the political section with great haste but seeing no sign of Julia there. He looks at Ella and Charlie, a few steps away, and notes that the queue has barely moved. He then starts leafing through the paper again, without skipping over any section. When he reaches the gossip pages, his heart suddenly skips a beat and he freezes with the paper open in his hands.

There, covering a large spread, are pictures of Julia on a night out with a man he has never seen before - a good-looking, well-built man of her own age, or a little older - and although the cameras have not caught any overt public displays of affection, the body language captured in the photos speaks of a level of intimacy that David knows from experience Julia doesn’t usually allow to men who are simply her colleagues. The blurb accompanying the pictures makes his stomach lurch:

_“Home Secretary Julia Montague cut a fine figure as she was photographed leaving The Wolseley on Saturday evening with a mystery man later identified as successful London barrister John Barlow. The pair were reportedly enjoying each other’s company in the upscale restaurant and onlookers say the Home Secretary appeared visibly smitten with her handsome companion. Sources close to the pair confirm the couple have been spending a lot of time together after the holidays when they are believed to have hit it off at a party held in Westminster. According to reports, Mr. Barlow has since become a frequent visitor in the Home Secretary’s south London home. Following her injuries in the….”_

David crunches the paper in his hands, unable to keep reading. He wants to dismiss the article as pure, malicious gossip, but the pictures staring back at him are harder to ignore than the probably embellished text, especially as they only seem to confirm the nagging suspicions his encounter with Julia had already raised.

“Daddy?” David looks up to see the queue moving and takes a deep breath to compose himself as he puts the paper down and rejoins his children.

“Did you find the picture of Miss Mon...Miss Monta…” Charlie struggles with the name.

“Montague,” David corrects him, his mind still reeling from the information he has just received. “Yes, I found the pictures,” he replies absently.

“Will you keep them again?”

David’s head snaps down to Charlie and then at Ella who is also eyeing him curiously.

“What? No, of course, not,” he replies. Certainly not those pictures. “Now, will it be fish and chips or fish and chips for you two?” He tries to sound cheerful.

“What was she like?” he hears Ella whisper to Charlie.

“Very pretty,” Charlie hisses back. “I think she liked me more than Daddy.”

“Quiet now,” David admonishes the two, feeling his own appetite well and truly lost. “Let’s stop talking nonsense and order some food.”


	10. He used to be my bodyguard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 1. Thank you all, as always, for your lovely comments and support. :)  
> \- 2. This chapter turned out very long but I hope you like it anyway. In my defense, it's the first time we get a longer look at Julia's POV.  
> \- 3. Just as I've managed to get out a couple of pretty quick updates, it's possible that the next one could take a lot longer again. I'm going away on a trip in a couple of weeks and if I don't have time update before that, the next update won't be until June. I will try to update as soon as possible after I get home, though, if I can't do it before.

For the next few weeks, David throws himself into his work. The longer the hours, the less time he has to think about Julia and her new man, and the less temptation to pick up the latest gossip rag to see if there are any new pictures of the couple. Not that there ever seem to be: after the initial tabloid report, and a couple of subsequent sightings of the pair, the media interest seems to die down as the Home Office offers no comment and nobody manages to whip up a scandal out of two divorcees of similar age and background having apparently found each other.

Even David’s own personal search into the man’s history produces nothing that would raise eyebrows: married once before, no children, some high profile cases that have given him the reputation of one of the top criminal barristers in town. They appear to have gone to the same law school, though he is a little older than Julia so David cannot be sure to what extent they have been contemporaries. Still, he is fairly certain the two would have known each other before at least to some degree, being of similar backgrounds and having had similar work history before Julia’s early rise to politics. But no matter how many stones he turns, he can find no actual dirt on the man - nothing that would give him a legitimate reason to hate him except for the fact that he is now dating Julia.

In the meanwhile, his own divorce process moves forward without a hitch as Vicky, pleased with the progress David has made with his therapy, agrees to joint custody without a battle and everything is soon settled to their mutual satisfaction so that all that remains is for them both to sign the papers. After a meeting with their lawyer to complete the procedure one Friday evening in May, David half-jokingly suggests they should get a pint together to celebrate the end of an era, and to his surprise Vicky agrees. Neither feeling any need to go out of their way, they quickly decide to head to the nearest pub that comes their way after exiting the lawyer’s office. 

As they enter, Vicky looks around a little uncertainly and then turns her eyes to David.

“This looks posh, Dave,” she points out the obvious. The office hours are just over and they are surrounded almost exclusively by men and women in suits, most of them probably lawyers from the nearby firms. 

“Aye,” David agrees, scanning the room out of habit to check the clientele as well as to mark the exits. “But a pub is a pub and we don’t have to stay long. Let’s just go sit over there, in the corner,” he says, pointing at a table near a side door where they are less likely to stick out like a sore thumb. Vicky nods, offering to buy the first round as David goes to reserve the table for them. 

Their time together passes pleasantly enough and David, feeling himself in no hurry to go home to mope alone, persuades Vicky to stay for another pint once it transpires that her mum is staying at home with the children. Their conversation flows from Charlie and Ella and how they are going to split the time between them for the summer holidays, to Vicky and her old boyfriend who apparently is back in the picture. They are taking things slowly, Vicky tells him, but David can see she is happy and he is happy for her. Instead of the jealousy he once felt, he can now only envy her for having so easily found what forever seems to elude him.

“What about you, Dave?” Vicky asks as she takes a sip of her beer. She is only half way through her second pint when David has already emptied his. “Anyone special in your life?”

“Aye, there’s someone special, but she’s not in my life and probably never will be,” he mutters as he stands up to get another round. “Can I get you anything?”

Vicky frowns, looking at David quizzically. “No, thanks,” she says then. “I should go after this one so my mum can get home.”

“Right, of course,” David replies. He is not sure he wants to stay and finish his next drink alone, but he is sure he doesn’t want to go home yet either. “You don’t mind if I…?” He gestures towards the bar.

Vicky shakes her head. “Go ahead.”

David walks up to the bar and has just ordered his pint when he notices a man walk in through the side door, next to the table where Vicky is sitting: the same PPO who had been with Julia only a few weeks before. At almost the exact same moment, the main door opens and another man in a suit walks in. David feels his stomach drop as he quickly identifies the man as the one from the pictures with Julia, quickly putting two and two together. The two men exchange a few words in the middle of the room and then the other one walks over to an empty table in a far corner of the pub while the PPO walks up to the bar to talk to one of the bartenders. David doesn’t need to hear the conversation to guess the gist of it based on his own experience, but he looks at the PPO intently until the man’s eyes are drawn to him and David can see the recognition in his eyes.

“Mr. Budd,” the man says and nods his head.

“Sargeant,” David returns the greeting as he receives his pint, taking a large gulp to prepare himself for what is inevitably coming as he returns to the table where Vicky is waiting.

“What’s going on, Dave?” she asks as he sits down next to her, making sure he is facing the side door.

“Lavender is on the move,” David replies dryly, taking another long gulp of his drink as the PPO walks past their table and steps out through the side door. He then turns his eyes briefly to the man waiting at the other table: John Barlow, barrister extraordinaire, even more infuriatingly handsome in person than he had appeared in pictures, carrying himself with a quiet assurance as if he might as well own the entire pub. 

Vicky looks confused as she follows David’s gaze. “Is everything alright?” she asks, placing her hand on David’s arm.

Before he can reply, the side door opens again and David turns his head just in time to see Julia step inside, for once carrying nothing but a small purse with her: a clear indication that she is not on duty. She looks around as if searching for something or someone and then stops dead in her tracks when her gaze falls on David. For a beat, she simply stares at him. Then her eyes dart quickly to Vicky, to her hand still on David’s arm, and then back to David. 

“David,” she finally breathes, surprise still evident in her voice. Apparently the PPO had not thought it necessary or hadn’t had a chance to warn her of his presence.

Emboldened by the drinks he has already had, David takes a moment to enjoy her discomposure as he puts his hand on top of Vicky’s on his arm.

“Julia,” he replies. “You haven’t met Vicky.”

His satisfaction, however, is short lived as he watches Julia’s expression change, and the surprise that had dominated her features for a moment is finally replaced by a professional facade as she forces a smile and looks at Vicky.

“Mrs. Budd?” she asks, extending her hand. “Julia Montague.”

Vicky, too stunned to correct her, takes the offered hand. “Pleased to meet you. David has talked so much about you.” She hesitates as she lets go of Julia’s hand. “Well, not so much, but...” She looks at David as he takes another gulp of his pint.

Julia’s eyes follow hers.

“Has he?” she asks but her voice sounds cold as she looks at David. “Well, I have to get going,” she says after a beat, turning to Vicky again.

“Can’t keep your man waiting,” David cuts in a little sullenly, earning another look from Julia, this time clearly annoyed, but she doesn’t dignify his comment with a response.

Instead, she turns to Vicky again, the strained smile returning to her lips: “It was nice to put a face to a name,” she says politely. Then she looks at David, the smile still frozen on her face. “Have a lovely evening with your wife, Mr. Budd.”

Before David can respond, she turns and walks quickly to the booth where Mr. Barlow is waiting. David watches as the two greet each other with smiles and Julia sits down, sliding next to the hateful man who immediately puts his arm around her shoulders. David almost expects to see Julia rebuke such a blatant, public expression of closeness, but instead she simply leans into his touch, seemingly accepting of the man’s advances.

“Dave?” Vicky’s voice forces David to tear his eyes away from the couple. “What was that all about?” she hisses.

“I’m sorry,” David starts, stealing another glance towards the other table where Julia and her boyfriend still look disgustingly cozy together. He has to almost physically restrain himself from walking up to the pair and pulling them apart for the sake of his own sanity.

“Oh my god,” Vicky breathes when she looks from David to Julia and then back to David. “Is _she_ the one you were talking about? That ‘someone special who isn’t in your life’?”

David turns to look at Vicky. There’s no point denying it, really, especially when Vicky knows him as well as she does.

“I know you said you two had an affair when we were separated but I thought it was just...” Vicky starts, shaking her head in amazement. “I never realised it meant so much.”

“Well, it clearly didn’t to her,” David replies bitterly, downing the rest of his drink.

Vicky is silent for a moment, taking a sip of her own beer.

“Have you talked to her about it?” she asks after a while. “Did she reject you?”

“I couldn’t, we were married,” David replies weakly. “And I wasn’t really sure of her feelings for me anyway,” he adds, looking forlornly down at this empty glass. “But I would probably have cheated on you if she gave me a reason to, so I don’t exactly deserve any sympathy from you, of all people.”

He feels Vicky’s hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle rub as she leans a little closer.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. Look at where we are now,” she reminds him. “We are both better off not married. You didn’t do anything wrong by me, but maybe you did by yourself when you held back.”

David considers Vicky’s words for a moment and wonders if things would have been any different if he had come to a conclusion sooner. “Well, it’s too late now, anyway,” he shrugs at last. “Look at them.” He turns to look at the other table again and as he does so, he sees Julia quickly turn her head as if she had been watching them just a moment before.

Vicky looks over as well and then shrugs.

“So?” she says. “You could take him on.”

David chortles but then shakes his head. “They make sense. They’re from the same world. This world.” He gestures the clientele of the pub where nobody seems to much care that the Home Secretary is sipping wine and making eyes with one of their lot. It occurs to him that some of these people might even know her from before she was a politician. “Me and her…” he continues darkly. “We only ever existed in a hotel room.”

He pauses for a moment to look at Vicky who is eyeing him sympathetically but doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“You saw how she looked at me just now, like I was something stuck in her shoe,” David continues after a while. “But she didn’t always look at me like that.” Once again, he thinks of St. Matthew’s, before the speech. He thinks of Julia’s hand grasping his, her eyes and smile open and warm, making him feel like he mattered despite what he had done. He hadn’t even fully understood the depth of what she had offered him at the time, and then everything had changed in the blink of an eye and taken it all away again.

“I thought she looked a little tense,” Vicky offers her opinion at last, bringing David back to the present. “But she’s a politician. I’m sure she’s very good at hiding what she really thinks or feels.”

David doesn’t reply. “I need another drink,” he says instead, standing up.

“I’m not sure that you should,” Vicky points out, taking one more sip of her own, now almost empty glass as she, too, gets up. “Come, let me get you a cab. You practically inhaled that last one and it’s going to go to your head.”

David can already feel the effects of his last drink as he stands and feels the room slightly sway around him. He knows Vicky is right, but somehow he cannot bear the thought of leaving as long as Julia is here.

“I’ll just have one more,” he says, putting his hand on Vicky’s shoulder in what he hopes to be a reassuring rub. “You go and give Ella and Charlie a kiss from me.”

Vicky looks at him for a moment, a frown creasing her forehead, and then finally shrugs, perhaps deciding it’s no longer her problem.

“Just...don’t do anything stupid, Dave,” she says, giving him a kiss on the cheek for parting.

“I won’t,” David promises. Just then, his eyes are again drawn towards Julia’s booth and he watches as she slides her hand down her man’s arm as she leans close to whisper something to him.

David turns away quickly. “I’ll walk you to the door,” he says to Vicky, placing his hand on the small of her back as he guides them both out of the view from the booth. By the door, he says his goodbyes to Vicky and then returns to the bar where he can only see the backs of Julia’s and her lover’s heads if he turns around to look.

Even that is more than he can stomach.

“A Scotch,” he tells the bartender as he sits down on a stool. “Make it double, and keep them coming.”

From then on, David’s experience of the evening grows increasingly blurry. At one point, when he thinks he’s on his second or maybe third Scotch, Mr. Barlow walks up to the bar and orders another beer and a white wine and David thinks of striking up a conversation but ends up only muttering something to himself that the man doesn’t seem to catch or simply chooses to ignore.

When Mr. Barlow returns to his table, David’s eyes follow him until he sits down, and all he can see is their heads too close to one another again. He turns back to the bar and empties his glass, ready to order another.

 

***

“You seem a little distracted tonight.” John’s voice penetrates Julia’s thoughts as she sips on her second glass of wine. Despite her best hopes, it seems to be doing nothing to the unpleasant feeling still lingering in her stomach from her earlier encounter with David and his all too lovely wife, who had barely seemed able to keep their hands off each other.

“Just tired,” she replies, forcing a smile as she slides her hand down to John’s tigh and gives it a slight squeeze. “It’s been a long week.” She sighs and turns to look at him. “And a long month, and a long year.”

“I’ve told you it’s Westminster,” John remarks as if he knows anything about anything. “You’re wasted there and that ex-husband of yours is running the party to the ground. You should cut your losses and come back to the real world.”

Julia sighs. As much as she hates to admit it, he is not entirely wrong. She knows she wouldn’t even be Home Secretary anymore if having her removed wouldn’t have been a PR disaster after she had had the good grace to survive a nearly fatal assassination attempt, but while hand-picking a new Prime Minister in her absence, Roger had also made a damn thorough job of either converting or removing all those who had been her supporters before. As things stood at present, it was clear that after the next election she wouldn’t have a seat with the big boys whether the party won or lost. At least not without putting up a fight that she didn’t think she had the energy for now.

“Come on, Julia,” she hears John continue. “Instead of you fighting windmills alone, I could make you a partner in my firm. You would be my equal.”

Julia takes another sip of her wine and lets the thought settle as she entertains herself by trying to decide which part of this evening is making her want to vomit the most: the unwanted display of David and his wife painting the perfect picture of marital happiness, or the fact that she is sitting here now, actually considering John’s offer of employment when two years ago she had been on path to become the country’s next Prime Minister.

“I worked with Roger before,” she says at last, setting her glass down, “and wherever this is going,” she continues, gesturing between them, “it’s not going to go anywhere if we end up working together.” She pauses for a moment, playing with the foot of her wine glass. “Besides, I haven’t practiced law in years. It’s a ludicrous idea.”

“So this is going somewhere?” John picks up on the first part of her response.

Julia looks at him for a moment, not sure she is ready for this conversation right now. She has known John socially for years, even considered sleeping with him once before while still married to Roger, but at the time she hadn’t wanted to give her soon to be ex-husband any ammunition for the impending divorce process. He was good looking, smart, a little full of himself like every lawyer she had ever known, including herself, but overall a decent man. He was also good company and not at all bad in bed. She could do worse. Had done much worse in Roger.

“I don’t know, is it?” she deflects the question, her eyes moving away from John and landing on the table where David and his wife had sat, now occupied by two men in suits probably discussing football scores.

They had made a pretty couple, Mr. and Mrs. Budd, and she was a pretty, young thing. Perfect for him, really.

She feels John’s hand on her hand and fights the urge to move it away. It’s not his fault her mind is miles away tonight.

“It could be,” he whispers into her ear, oblivious to where her thoughts are at. “Don’t you think?”

Julia takes a deep breath and tries to focus her thoughts on John. She turns to look at him but before she has a chance to reply, a sudden commotion draws her attention away and sends her pulse raising, a sudden panic gripping her as she looks for the source of the raised voices. For a moment, her eyes look frantically for her bodyguard but when they land on him, she releases her breath, relieved. The cause of the racket seems to be nothing more than a single drunken patron, probably wanting to give her a piece of his mind about the state of the country’s affairs.

As Julia leans a little deeper back into her booth, she reminds herself that this would be another thing she would not miss about politics. She is about to turn her attention back to John when suddenly Peter, her PPO, moves a little and her eyes inadvertently land on the man who is causing the scene.

“Shit,” she mutters to herself, all colour leaving her face as her eyes suddenly meet David Budd’s vacant, drunken stare, unable to comprehend what she is seeing. For a moment, she tries to frantically piece together how he is here, now, in this state, when she is sure she saw him leave with his wife a long time ago, but nothing she can think of seems to add up.

“Jusht lemme have a word wiv’ her,” she hears his slurred words that are barely intelligible as he tries to push his way through Peter but fails to even stay standing upright without her PPO’s support.

By now, John’s attention has also been turned to David, and Julia is vaguely aware of him making some sort of comment which she fails to process. A quick scan around the room tells her that while some of the patrons are watching the scene unfold, many are at least pretending not to pay attention.

“Julia?” she hears John’s voice again and realises she has pulled her hand from his grasp.

“Not now,” she says absently and doesn’t pause to wait for his next words before she scoots away, gets up, and then cautiously approaches her current and former bodyguard.

“Julia,” David slurs in a pitiable voice as she gets closer and Julia swallows down a lump that the sight of him like this brings to her throat. Peter, with one arm still holding David in place, turns quickly to her as well.

“Ma’am, you should stand back,” he says sternly. “I will take care of this.”

“ _This?_ ” she hisses under her breath. “Somebody needs to take care of _him_.”

Julia can hear footsteps behind her and soon enough John is standing next to her too, but the addition only seems to aggravate David more. He starts to say something but his words are so incoherent that Julia doesn’t know what to make of them. 

“Julia, come on,” John whispers in her ear, placing his hands on her arms from behind. “We don’t want to cause a scene. Let your guy handle him.”

Julia takes a surreptitious look around and can see more eyes on them now, every sense telling her she should follow John’s advice and back away. Then she looks at David, swaying precariously on his feet with Peter’s support, eyes hardly focusing on anything, and knows she can’t leave him.

“David, look at me,” she steps forward and tries to speak so evenly that her voice doesn’t crack. She waits until his eyes slowly turn to her, blinking and hazy. “Can I call your wife and ask her to pick you up?”

It seems to take a while for her words to sink in but when they finally do, David shakes his head vehemently: “No,” he slurs. “No wife.”

Julia sighs, wondering briefly if the two have had an unexpected squabble after leaving and that’s what has driven him to drink so excessively, but there is no time to dwell on that thought now. She turns to Peter instead.

“We have to take him home,” she says simply. That much, at least, has become clear to her.

“We? Julia, you don’t have to do this,” John cuts in.

“Get him through the side door where the car is waiting,” Julia continues to address Peter, ignoring John’s remark. “We don’t need to continue this here.”

Peter nods his agreement and John doesn’t argue against it and so, with some effort, Peter starts walking David towards the other end of the room while Julia follows behind with John in tow. Once outside, away from the prying eyes of the patrons of the pub, Julia heaves a heavy sigh and leans her back against the door. Her eyes land on David, swaying back and forth as he tries in vain to break free from her bodyguard’s firm hold, and she struggles to understand how they have ended up here.

“Could someone explain what is happening?” John asks and then turns to Julia, looking even more confused than she feels. “Who is he that you feel the need to get involved?

“Ya know...I’m...riight here,” David slurs, having given up on wrestling with Peter. “Twat,” he adds more quietly, looking at John. There’s a brief silence and then suddenly he covers his mouth and lurches forward, breaking free from Peter’s grip just as he starts retching. Julia, not being directly on his path, makes a lucky escape, but some of the vomit lands on John’s shoes before he can move out of the way.

“Jesus Christ,” he exclaims, glaring at David and then turning his eyes to Julia, still waiting for her explanation. “Are you sure you want anything to do with him?” he asks before looking down at this shoes.

Julia looks at David who is still heaving against the wall even though nothing more appears to be coming out for the time being.

“He used to be my bodyguard,” she says weakly, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“And I imagine this is why he was fired,” John guesses, trying to shake his feet, disgust written all over his face.

“He wasn’t fired,” Julia replies with a sigh. “And I’ve never seen him like this,” she adds quietly, more to herself, as she watches Peter pull David upright again and then continue to support him as he sways violently back and forth. 

“Either way, this is hardly your problem,” John points out pragmatically, his gaze following hers. “Let me get him into a cab and then we can continue this evening somewhere else.” He leans closer to Julia as his tone turns suggestive. “Maybe your place,” he whispers into her ear, the implication of his words clear.

Julia closes her eyes briefly and takes a deep breath as she feels John’s hand move very low on her back, and she can feel herself almost tempted to give in to his persuasion. There is almost nothing she would like to do less than deliver this drunken version of David home to his wife, but when she opens her eyes and looks at him, currently glaring at the two of them while muttering something unintelligible in a thick Scottish accent, her heart aches for him and she knows she would not have peace all night if she left him alone now. 

“Look at him,” she says loud enough only for John to hear. “We can’t just put him into a cab and hope for the best.”

John lets out a sigh. He looks at Peter who simply shrugs, still busy holding on to David.

“Yes we can,” he then says to Julia. “Just because it was his job to guard you once, doesn’t mean it’s your job to take care of him now. He’s a grown man and you have enough on your plate as it is.”

Julia bristles quietly at his callous attitude but before she can reply, he continues:

“Come to think of it, isn’t this the man who nearly got you killed at St. Matthew’s? I’m sure I’ve seen that face before in the news.”

“He didn’t ‘nearly get me killed’,” Julia hisses back, growing increasingly annoyed with John. “He found the perpetrators and helped put them away. Besides...” She pauses and takes a breath, the memory still difficult to revisit. “He saved my life when my car was being pelted with bullets at Thornton Square, so if I say I’m not going to put him in a bloody cab alone, I mean it.”

She glares at John and sees his expression change. At first, he appears surprised by the vehemence of her response, but then his face softens as he continues to look at her.

“Of course if it’s that important to you,” he says, his tone conciliatory as he strokes her face. He looks at David and then back at Julia. “But let me come with you at least. We’ll get him to his missus and then we can continue this evening, just you and me.” He grabs Julia’s hand and tugs at it gently.

Julia considers his offer for a moment and almost wishes she could say yes to avoid the lonely ride back home, but the thought of being squeezed in the backseat of her car with both David and John feels wrong on too many levels to even seriously consider. She places her hand on John’s chest and then adjusts his tie, trying to put on an appearance of playfulness. “The car would just be crowded with him between us,” she explains as lightly as she can. “You should go home and see if you can salvage those shoes.” She looks down at his feet and smirks. “We can continue this another night.”

“Ma’am.” To Julia’s relief, Peter interrupts them before John can reply. “I don’t like us standing here like sitting ducks. I need to get you to the car.”

Julia sighs, almost relieved to have an excuse to move. “Sorry,” she says to John as she slips from his touch.

He steps back and seems to accept his fate. “Call me if you change your mind about later.”

Julia’s response is noncommittal as she joins Peter and David. Without a word, she takes David’s other arm and they start walking him towards the car while John follows a few steps behind. When they reach the vehicle, Kevin, the driver, quickly steps out to relieve Julia of her supporting duty and the two men shove David in the backseat at her request.

While the men wrestle him in, Julia steps back for a moment to say her goodbyes to John, accepts a kiss from him that comes with a somewhat unexpected and unsettling “I love you” that she doesn’t know how to respond to and then quickly retreats back to the car where David, having lolled over sideways, is taking up nearly the entire backseat.

“Shit,” she mutters for the second time that evening, no longer sure which part of the last ten minutes she is cursing, and finds herself wishing, not for the first time, that she could simply hail a cab for herself and leave without anyone blinking an eye.

“Let me pick him up, ma’am,” Peter says, starting to open the other door, but Julia waves him off, sliding into her seat and lifting David’s head enough to make room for herself before lowering it onto her lap.

“You idiot,” she mutters under her breath as she looks down at the passed out David, her fingers sliding gently through his hair. Then she looks up at the front seat. “Did you manage to get an address from him?”

“It was a bit unclear but I think so,” Kevin replies from behind the wheel, typing an address into his GPS system. “It’s on the other side of town.”

“I don’t like this,” Peter points out as he fastens his seatbelt. “Seatbelt?” He checks the backseat.

“Well neither do I but here we are,” Julia snaps back as she, too, puts her seatbelt on. “Besides, I doubt anyone wanting to off me would plan to ambush me on a completely unplanned excursion to deliver a drunken ex..bodyguard home.” She realises her slip quickly enough to cover it.

“Very, true, ma’am,” her PPO agrees and fixes his eyes ahead. “Are you alright there?”

Just then David groans and stirs, but he settles quickly when Julia places her free hand on his shoulder while the other continues to cradle his head.

“I’m fine, just drive,” she replies curtly, trying to steel herself for another meeting with Mrs. Budd.

***

The drive to David’s address is an uneventful one but the Friday night traffic makes it take much longer than anyone in the car might have wished. The weight of David’s head on Julia’s lap starts to wear on her soon but she doesn’t want to risk waking him by pushing him into a sitting position. Instead, she sits back herself and closes her eyes while her fingers continue to lazily stroke his hair.

She tries to think of her earlier conversation with John: not the first time he has suggested she should leave Westminster, and probably not the last, but she cannot focus now on what would be such a life changing decision. Thoughts of David and how this night has lead her here with him threaten to push themselves to the forefront of her mind instead, but she keeps them at bay too, afraid to let herself feel anything before she is alone again.

She is not aware of dozing off until she jolts awake when the car eventually comes to a halt and her PPO announces they have arrived. Getting David to wake, however, turns out to be a little more challenging.

“David?” Julia tries as she jostles his shoulder, but he only groans and mutters something into her thigh, burying his face deeper into it. For a fleeting moment she closes her eyes and allows herself to imagine them alone, with him sober and single, but she dispels the thought quickly.

In the end, it takes Peter pulling David first into a sitting position and then out of the car and onto his unsteady feet before he returns to any resemblance of real consciousness. He looks at Julia over the roof of the car as she, too, steps out, and despite the drunken haze of his eyes, he looks surprised to see her, clearly holding no memory of the journey. 

“Julia?” he says in a thick, slurry voice as he takes support of the car. “Wha’are you doing here?”

“What do you fucking think?” she replies dryly, not really caring whether David hears it or not. She motions her PPO to help him walk and then leads the way to the door of the apartment building.

“Is this you?” she asks, turning to David at the door.

He gives an exaggerated nod, still looking at Julia as if he is seeing a ghost.

“And do you have a key?”

David nods again. “‘ss in my my pocket,” he mutters, shoving his hand into his left pocket but without any apparent success of finding a key.

Julia throws a quick glance at her PPO and then steps forward, plunges her hand into David’s other pocket while holding his gaze, fishes the keys out swiftly, and then takes a step back. David opens his mouth as if to say something, but the withering, warning look she gives him in return is enough to silence him even in his current state. 

With the key in Julia’s possession, they make their way into the building and with David’s instructions finally to the right apartment. By the door, they pause. Julia takes a deep breath, braces herself for what’s to come, and then presses the doorbell.

“No-one there,” David slurs as he leans heavily on the wall.

Julia looks at him and wonders what he could possibly mean but when nobody comes to answer the door, she finally exchanges a look with her PPO and then pushes the key in. She opens the door and, after everyone has piled in, Peter motions for Julia to wait by the threshold as he turns on the lights and goes to inspect the apartment. Not sure what else to do, she holds on to David who doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave her side.

“Told yeh it’sh empty,” he mumbles as she looks around cautiously from the threshold, still trying to piece together where David’s wife and children might be. For a moment she still entertains the thought that they might simply be sleeping in their rooms but when her PPO returns and gives her the all clear, remarking that there is no one in, she cannot help but wonder how that can be.

As David trudges further into his apartment, Peter pulls Julia aside. “I think we can leave now, ma’am,” he tells her quietly. “He’s at home and there’s nothing more we can do. I’m happy to assist a fellow officer, even a former one, but he is here now and you have gone above and beyond to help him already.”

Julia looks at David who has flopped down on the sofa, head lolling back and forth, and feels her mind and heart pulling her in opposite directions. She knows she cannot stay, but she’s not quite ready to leave yet either.

“Could you just step outside and leave us for a moment?” she asks after a brief deliberation.

Her PPO looks at her and then at David, his face betraying no sentiment.

“He could be unpredictable,” he says at last. “I would rather not leave you alone with him in this state.”

Julia sighs. “He’s not going to hurt me,” she replies, the irony of her own words not lost on her as she looks at over David and feels a familiar ache that the last months have subdued but never completely dispelled. “Just go,” she adds, turning her eyes back to her PPO. “I won’t be long.”

Peter seems to consider for a moment but finally he nods his acquiescence. “Ma’am,” he replies and then opens the door, gives her one more parting look, and slips out into the corridor to wait.

As soon as the door closes, Julia takes in a deep breath and walks up to David who seems to have decided to remove his shoes but isn’t having much success with the execution. She looks at him for a moment and then swallows the harsh words she’d had swirling on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she quietly kneels down in front of him and, without a word, starts to undo the laces of his shoes.

“I can do that,” David tries to protest as he lurches forward to reach for his shoes but only manages to collide with Julia in the process.The whiff of alcohol in his breath is almost enough to make her own head spin.

“No you can’t,” Julia retorts as she pushes him to sit back before continuing to untie his shoes. She yanks one off and then the other, and then tosses them both away, not really caring where they land.

“You’re angry wiff me,” David slurs, trying to sit up again.

“You’re drunk,” Julia shoots back. It’s not really even an accusation - simply a statement of fact. She is angry but she doesn’t even know at who or what anymore. The list is long.

“Only a little,” he replies, pushing himself to his feet. “See?” he adds triumphantly as he stands up. He takes a few steps and nearly tumbles before Julia rushes to his side and hooks his arm around her shoulders, placing another hand on his chest to steady him.

“Okay, we’re going to bed now,” she huffs, trying to steer him towards where she guesses the bedroom must be.

“Are you coming too?” David asks, tugging at her shirt so that it becomes untucked. “I want you to come.”

“Nobody’s going to come tonight, trust me,” Julia mutters in response. “Least of all me.” She finds the bedroom, notes in passing that it doesn’t seem to have any female touch in it at all, and then steers David to the edge of the bed where she sits him down. 

She looks at him for a moment, considers asking some questions but soon decides against it, seeing as she would probably receive very few sensible words in response. Instead, she blows out a breath and then turns to leave the room with the intention of finding some painkillers and water, but before she can move, she feels David’s hand reaching for hers.

“Donn-go, Julia,” he says in a sunken voice that grips at her harder than the hand that misses its target.

Julia stops and takes a deep breath. While she stands still, David finally manages to get hold of her hand and for a moment she lets him pull at it.

“I’m shorry I ruined yer evening,” he says, his voice still incoherent but managing to somehow sound sincere, and Julia has to fight the urge to look him in the eye, afraid that if she did, it might be her undoing.

“I’ll be right back,” she says, pulling her hand away and moving resolutely to the door. “Don’t go to sleep yet,” she pauses to say before slipping into the living room.

“Yesh, ma’am,” she hears David’s voice from behind her, a slurred version of the words she has heard from his lips so many times but hadn’t thought she would ever hear again.

Trying to focus on the present, Julia pushes the thought out of her mind and lets her eyes scan the room around her. She notices the pictures of David’s children on the walls, recognises Charlie and notes that Ella looks a great deal like her mother - the mother who somehow appears to not be present in the apartment in any capacity. Not only is she not in here now, but she seems to have left no mark of herself anywhere that Julia can see. Even when she steps into the bathroom to look for the painkillers, which she eventually finds in a cabinet placed high enough to be unreachable for children, there are no signs of any beauty or feminine hygiene products that would suggest that a woman was living in the apartment. In short, none of what she sees seems to add up with the picture perfect couple she had witnessed at the pub earlier - the same couple who she had seen on video walking across London while David had been strapped to that horrid vest. She had not thought it possible then that any power could ever bring those two people apart.

As she walks out of the bathroom, painkillers in hand and head whirling with questions, she thinks fleetingly of Occam’s Razor and wonders if perhaps the simplest, most obvious explanation is the correct one: that David seems to be living on his own and whatever she thought to be true of his marriage must somehow be flawed. The thought makes Julia’s heart race for a moment until she reins it in again, reminding herself that regardless of the state of his marriage, David has never once tried to contact her after leaving the Metropolitan Police, just like he never did while she was recovering from her injuries after the explosion. In the more recent case, she can concede that she had not given him any encouragement to do so, but the same cannot be said for earlier. She had all but placed her heart at his feet then and he had never as much as looked back. Her hand instinctively pauses on her stomach as she thinks back to that time, but then she quickly shakes her head, refusing to go down that rabbit hole now.

She makes her way to the kitchen next, finds a glass in a cupboard and fills it with water, and then finally returns to the bedroom where he finds David, still hangin on to wakefulness. Somehow he has managed to remove his jacket and jeans in her absence, both of the garments now lying in separate heaps on the floor, and is sitting down on the bed in his boxers and t-shirt, swaying back and forth.

“You chame back,” he says when Julia has already crossed the room and placed the painkillers on the nightstand, his intake a little slow.

“I told you I would,” she replies coolly, trying to avoid looking at him as long as she is able to. “You should drink this before you sleep,” she says, finally turning to him enough to hand him the glass, which she then doesn’t let go off as she observes his unsteady hands, letting them cover hers as she helps him down the water.

When he is done, Julia pulls her hand swiftly away with the empty glass. “You should go to sleep now,” she says, keeping her voice even and distant. She watches as David flops against the pillows and, with some difficulty, lifts his legs so that he is eventually lying on his side in the bed.

Julia releases a sigh of relief, finally ready to simply leave him to sleep off his stupor, but as she tries to move again, she feels David’s hand reach for her, this time landing on her stomach and then sliding down to the waist of her trousers.

“Julia,” he mutters, eyes half-closed, barely conscious.

“Not now, David,” she replies, removing his hand and placing it firmly on the bed. “I have to go.”

David grunts in displeasure but doesn’t try to reach for her again. She manages to take two steps away before his next words reach her ears, mumbled and quiet, but like an unaimed shot that accidentally hits its mark, they pierce through her heart and make her stop dead on her feet:

“I love you.”

Julia’s head whips back to look at David but his eyes are already closed and his slow, heavy breathing seems to suggest he is drifting off to sleep.

With unsteady feet, she continues to the kitchen and refills the glass with water before returning to the bedroom to set it down on the nightstand, next to the painkillers. She steals another look at David as she passes him, sees him definitely fast asleep now, and then makes her way quickly out of the bedroom again, covering her mouth.

In the living room, she pauses for a moment to gather her thoughts, reminding herself that whatever he had said, had been said on the brink of passing out and would probably not stand inspection in the sober light of day. For all she knows, he might have been thinking of his lovely wife by that point. Anything else, she cannot allow herself to think.

She takes one more look towards the bedroom door, which she has left ajar. Then she tucks her loose shirt back into her trousers, finds a mirror to make sure she looks presentable, and finally lets herself out of the apartment and into the corridor where her bodyguard waits.

In the car, she takes out her phone and weighs it in her hand. John’s number comes up first in her recent calls and her finger hovers over his name, tempted by the easy solution for how to clear her mind.

“Heading home, ma’am?” Her PPO’s voice interrupts her thoughts and she puts her phone down for the moment.

Julia looks out of the window towards David’s building and then down at her phone.

“Yes, please,” she says then. “The sooner the better.”


	11. Hungover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting. Here's another one. :)

David groans as he wakes up with a pounding head and a horrid taste in his mouth that feels as dry as sandpaper when he tries to swallow. 

“Jesus,” he mutters as he rolls over and opens his eyes, only to shut them again against the harsh daylight that seems to want to split his head into two. He feels sick but not sick enough to even attempt getting out of bed yet.

Next time he wakes, he feels slightly better but his head is still pounding and as he rolls over and opens his eyes, his gaze immediately falls on a glass of water and two painkillers left on his nightstand. The sight, though welcome, makes him frown in confusion before he makes use of the items clearly left for him. He has no recollection of how they could have ended up there, but finds it hard to imagine he would have had the foresight to prepare for the inevitable hangover when he doesn’t even know how he got home.

He settles back against the pillows and closes his eyes again, this time to try to think back to the night before. He remembers the pub and feels a fresh wave of nausea as he thinks of Julia with her new man. He can remember Vicky leaving and him staying but after that, everything starts to become blurry. All his thoughts must have been focused on Julia, though, because even now he can almost smell a whiff of her perfume around him.

After another hour of lying down and letting the painkillers do their job, David finally gets to his feet and picks up the clothes strewn across the floor in complete disarray, which only seems to deepen the mystery of the water and the painkillers left on the nightstand with such care. He finds his phone in his pocket and checks his call history but doesn’t see any outgoing calls from the night before, and from this morning there is only one missed incoming from Vicky. He sighs and returns to sit on the bed as he dials back.

“Morning,” he greets Vicky when she picks up, his voice coming out so groggy it surprises even himself.

“Jesus, Dave, you sound terrible.” Her reaction is less surprising. “And it’s hardly morning anymore.”

David looks at the clock on his nightstand and notes it’s past 1pm. He is silent for a moment.

“I think I had a bit too much to drink last night,” he admits.

Vicky hums. “I was afraid you would.” She pauses for a moment. “That’s why I called earlier, to check you made it home in one piece and didn’t do anything stupid.”

“Oh,” David replies, running a hand across his face. “I thought maybe you had been here before because someone left water and painkillers on my nightstand. Nobody else has a key.”

“Oh,” Vicky says after a pause. “Well, no, that wasn’t me, but are you sure you didn’t do that yourself?”

David tries to think back again, in vain. He really cannot fathom at all how he even got home. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think so,” he replies. “I don’t think I was in any state to do that really,” he admits sheepishly.

There is another pause. “Gosh, Dave,” Vicky mutters at last. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need me to come over?”

David shakes his head even though Vicky can’t see him. “I’m fine,” he finally replies out loud. “I just need to get past the hangover and I’ll be right as rain,” he adds, trying to sound cheerful even as he thinks to himself that it’s not the hangover he needs to get over. It’s Julia.

He finishes the call to Vicky with more assurances that he is indeed perfectly fine, and then gets up and walks through to the living room. Even there, he still thinks he can faintly smell Julia’s perfume around him, but apart from his shoes that seem to have landed all over the floor, everything seems to be just as he remembers leaving it, except for his keys that have been left neatly on the coffee table - where he never leaves his keys.

With his phone still in his hand, David makes it to the kitchen and has just poured himself a glass of water when he suddenly feels the phone vibrate. He glances at the caller ID, ready to dismiss the call, and then does a double take in disbelief. Suddenly feeling light-headed, he lowers his glass as he leans against the kitchen counter.

He looks at the screen again and sees Julia’s name still on it. With a shaky hand, he swipes to answer.

“Julia?” His voice still sounds hoarse and groggy, and he grimaces at the impression he must be making.

There’s a short silence and David half expects her to hang up, imagining she must have misdialed, but then he finally hears her voice.

“David.”

Just his name, spoken a little uncertainly, but at that moment it’s the best sound in the world he could imagine. There’s another pause and then Julia continues, her voice gaining some of its usual assurance. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” she says very matter of factly. “You were...in a bit of a state last night.” She adds with some hesitation.

David groans as he runs his hand through his hair. “You saw me?” he asks, dreading to imagine what she must think of him. How glad she must be to be rid of him. “God, Julia, if I said or did anything regrettable, I swear it was just the drink,” he adds quickly, suddenly afraid that he might have been drunk enough to approach Julia and her boyfriend and say something so grossly out of line she might rightfully hate him. 

He hears Julia take in a breath and then release it. “You don’t need to apologise for anything,” she says after a beat. Her voice sounds distant again and somewhere in the back of his mind, David is reminded of the many boring but necessary work related phone calls he used to overhear, as if he is now at the receiving end of one of those calls - somebody she has to deal with but can't wait to get rid of.

"I really just called to check how you were doing and you’re alive and awake so that’s good,” Julia continues before David can formulate a response. The words come out of her mouth quickly, as if she truly cannot wait for the conversation to be over. “I won’t keep you any longer,” she finishes with a tone of finality.

“Julia, wait,” David says quickly, but he is met with silence, and as he takes the phone off his ear to look at the screen, he sees she has ended the call.

 

***

Julia puts the phone down and runs her hand through her hair. She isn’t sure what she had expected, exactly, but perhaps what he had said was precisely what she had needed to hear.

She looks over at John, lounging on her sofa, reading a newspaper, and then at the two bottles of wine they had put away the night before and she wonders, not for the first time, how this is what her life now looks like. She had called John in the car after leaving David’s apartment, and by the time she had made it home, he had been waiting outside with a bottle in hand.

What she had intended to be just a booty call to get her mind off David had turned into wine and talk of politics and law and then more wine until she had almost convinced herself she was having a good time. Of course, by the time they had moved on to sex, he had been too drunk to perform to his usual standard, but then she had also been drunk enough not to really care. In the harsh light of day, though, she can admit it had been clumsy and ultimately unsatisfying and now all she feels is tired, slightly sick, and even more hollow than she had felt before calling John last night.

Julia walks over to the set of sofas and picks up the empty wine glasses and bottles left on the table and, without a word, walks with them to the kitchen, thinking about her short conversation with David.

As she had suspected, he didn’t seem to have any memory of her bringing him home last night, let alone of anything he had said, and as Julia puts the glasses in the sink and the bottles on the counter, she figures it’s probably better that way. He had, after all, inadvertently just said that none of it meant anything it. That it had just been the drink talking.

She hears John’s footsteps approaching behind her back and braces her hands against the counter, pushing thoughts of David aside. Only a moment later, she can feel his arms sneak around her waist from behind, hands crossing over her stomach as he presses himself against her back, and Julia leans towards him, moving her hands from the counter to rest on top of his. It makes her feel more in control.

“What do you say we go away for the weekend?” John whispers into her ear and then nuzzles her neck. “Take the car and drive to a nice country house and get a room for the night.”

Julia closes her eyes and then sighs. “You know I can’t,” she replies. “I have work to do.” Work she has already neglected all morning while nursing a hangover. “Besides, the security it would take…”

“I know, I know,” John says, not needing to hear the rest. “But if not now then some other weekend. I just want to spend more time with you and take you away from all this,” he turns Julia around and gestures with his hands to indicate the room around them but meaning, more generally, the caged-in life she leads here.

She lets her eyes mechanically follow his gesturing hands and tries not to think of David when her gaze falls on the stove that hasn’t been used since the night he made her spaghetti and meatballs. That same night she had dreamt of another shooting, only that time it had been David’s beautiful head that had taken the bullet meant for her, shattering into pieces in front of her own eyes - a memory that still makes her shudder to the core. 

“I meant what I said last night, you know,” John continues when Julia doesn’t reply. She blinks and turns to look at him again, eyes barely seeing.

“Remind me,” she says distractedly. “What did you say?”

John looks at her for a moment and the realisation dawns on her just before he opens his mouth:

“That I love you,” he says, lifting a hand to cradle her head.

_‘Shit’._

“Oh,” Julia says out loud.

“You don’t have to say it back now,” he continues when Julia doesn’t know what else to say. “I know you have been through a lot, and maybe you’re not ready yet, but I want you to know I’m serious about this.”

He leans forward and Julia closes her eyes as she parts her lips, accepting if not fully reciprocating the kiss that follows. As the kiss deepends, all she can think of is the life she could have with John, stretching ahead of her so clear it almost feels like a life already lived: the challenge of finding her feet as a barrister again, weekend getaways in luxury hotels filled with expensive meals and champagne, and freedom to come and go at her own leisure. She could still do valuable work, too, even if it lacked the purpose she had lived for, for so many years. But it doesn't excite her.

Nothing ever seems to anymore. 

She can feel John’s hands reaching for the buttons of her shirt, can feel his lips moving down to her neck and she doesn’t hate it but she’s not sure she is really in the mood for it either.

“John…” she starts, pressing her hands against his chest to pause him.

“Let me make up for last night,” he says, lifting his head and removing his hands but then pressing another light kiss to Julia’s lips. “I had a bit too much to drink and I know it wasn’t…”

Before he can finish his sentence, they are both startled by the sound of Julia’s phone buzzing in the living room.

“Hold that thought,” she says, pressing a finger to John’s lips and then stepping aside, not sure if she is relieved or disappointed by the intrusion. “I have to get that.”

She walks quickly over to the table where she has left her phone and freezes as she sees the name on the screen. She looks over at John and then grabs the phone and slips into her study before picking up.

“David,” she says as she presses the phone to her ear, heart suddenly hammering in her chest.

“Julia,” he replies, his voice still groggy.

Julia waits for him to continue but a beat passes in silence. ”Is anything the matter?” she finally asks, sitting down by her desk.

“No...yes,” David replies. He sounds indecisive and a little lost, which Julia chalks up to the effects of alcohol he must still be feeling. “You hung up,” he finally says, to her surprise.

“I did,” she replies slowly, not sure where this is heading. “I called to check up on you and you were fine so there didn’t seem to be much else to say.”

Her words are followed by a long pause.

“Is that really how you feel?” David asks at last. “That we have nothing to say to each other?”

Julia swallows. “No, of course not,” she says after a beat but her words seem to be belied by the silence that immediately falls between them again. This time it stretches on for several beats but somehow also feels less charged than before. Julia listens to David’s breathing and wonders if he is listening to hers.

“Look, Julia,” he starts at last and then pauses. “I don’t know what happened last night and I’m afraid I said or did something to upset you. I don’t want that to be…” He trails off again. “I don’t want that to be how you remember me.”

Julia feels a sudden panic rise at his words, remembering his state last night. “Remember you?” she repeats quickly, standing to her feet. “David, what are you saying?”

He seems to realise how his words came across and replies quickly: “Oh, no, no, I didn’t mean…” he trails off. “I just meant if you and I never meet again.”

Julia sits back down, taking in David’s words and weighing them carefully. “Are you sure?” she asks, still concerned as she thinks of the excessive drinking and him apparently living alone, both signs pointing to something having gone very wrong with his family life.

“I’m sure, Julia,” David replies and the certainty in his voice sets Julia’s mind more at ease. “I really just wanted…” He trails off and pauses but, sensing he wants to say something more, Julia waits without interrupting. 

“I know you’re busy and probably have better things to do,” David continues at last. He hesitates a moment again and then adds: “I also know you have people...well, a person you would rather spend time with, but I really would like to see you. Just one more time to clear the air.”

Julia blinks and, for a moment, doesn’t know how to feel about David’s words - isn’t sure if she wants to put herself through seeing him again only for another final goodbye.

David seems to draw his own conclusions from her silence.

“I understand,” he says, sounding a little deflated. “I just...really miss you.”

Julia can feel her stomach twist as her breath hitches at his words.

“Do you, really?” she asks, hating how choked up her voice suddenly sounds. She clears her throat and continues before David can answer: “Well, I…” she trails off, just short of admitting she misses him too. ”I’m free tomorrow,” she says instead, as nonchalantly as she can manage. “It’s probably best you come here, if tomorrow works for you. You know what hassle it is for me to go anywhere.”

She hears David chuckle and her heart almost aches at how much she has missed that sound, rare as it always was, even when they used to see each other every day.

“Aye, I know,” he replies. He pauses for a moment and then adds: “I will be there. Is noon good?”

“Noon is perfect,” Julia replies. “The guard outside will know to expect you.”

There’s a bit of an awkward pause. “I will see you tomorrow then,” David says.

“See you tomorrow,” Julia replies. They say their goodbyes and finally she sets her phone down and buries her face in her hands.

Before she can even begin to process the call, however, there’s a knock on the door and she sits up straight, straining for a neutral expression.

“Yes?” she asks.

The door opens and John pops his head in.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting,” he says. When he sees that Julia is unoccupied, he steps in fully. “Everything alright?” he asks, perhaps sensing that something appears off.

Julia forces a smile. “Yes, it was just work,” she lies easily. “Did you want something?”

John steps closer and places his hands on her shoulders, giving them a light massage. “Well, I would like to continue what we started…” He leans down to kiss her jaw. “But I got a call from a client who needs urgent legal council. I could tell them no, but…”

“You should go,” Julia replies absently, her eyes still lingering on her phone. Then she tears her eyes from it to look at John. “I have work to do as well and neither of us have been productive today.”

“I could come back tonight to finish this,” John suggests, toying with the buttons of her shirt. “A nice dinner...a bottle of wine…”

Julia closes her eyes. She can already picture another night of idleness and eventually too much drinking, followed by a morning in bed with a fussy head, and she can barely recognise herself in the image her mind conjures.

“No,” she replies sternly. “I’m already behind on work and I don’t need anymore distractions.” She stands up, extracting herself from John’s touch.

“Tomorrow then?” John suggests.

“I’m busy tomorrow,” Julia replies without elaborating. She looks at John and, feeling bad for her curtness, steps up to him to press a light kiss on his lips. “I’ll call you later,” she promises, toying with the lapels of his shirt. “Now, go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” John replies with a smile, leaning in to give her a light peck as well, but those two words, coming from him, sound all wrong. 

“Don’t call me that,” Julia says without thinking, turning her head enough that his lips only land on the corner of her mouth.

John looks at her curiously. “Sick of hearing it at work every day?” 

“Yes,” Julia replies a little uncertainly, not sure how she could explain that those words, when spoken out of the context of work, belong to David only. “It’s all I ever hear," she sighs. 

“Julia it is then,” John replies without questioning her further. “Don’t work too hard. And think about what I said,” he adds on his way out.

Julia smiles weakly and nods her head. “Talk to you later,” she replies, sinking back into her seat. Sha barely registers John’s response and is only vaguely aware of him stepping out of the room until she hears the outer door open and close, signaling that she is finally alone with her thoughts.


	12. There grew a little flower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read to the end of the chapter before murdering me. :P

Having taken care to be punctual, David arrives at Julia’s doorstep at almost exactly 12 at noon, awkwardly holding a bouquet of flowers as he steps up to the guard to state his name and business.

The man looks him over and nods, clearly aware that he is expected. “And the flowers?” he asks, pointing at the bouquet that David had tried to keep behind his back to draw as little attention to it as possible.

“They’re for...Ms. Montague,” he replies, reluctantly offering the flowers up for inspection, grateful that at least the guard appears to be someone he has never met before. The police officer takes a moment to inspect the bouquet and then looks up at David and nods again, finally giving him the signal to enter.

Feeling suddenly nervous and already second-guessing his decision to bring the wretched flowers, David steps into the building and, after a moment of hesitation, finally rings the doorbell to Julia’s apartment. As he waits, he tries to prepare himself mentally for any kind of welcome he might receive. It has already occurred to him before that this meeting probably means less to Julia than it does to him, and it’s possible she is only expecting him to make a brief visit, say what he wants to say, and then be on his way. If that appears to be the case, then that’s what he’s prepared to do. The last thing he wants is to make himself a nuisance.

A few beats pass and then the door opens, immediately stalling David’s thoughts. On the other side of the threshold stands Julia, looking simultaneously casual and devastatingly attractive.

Her hair, just long enough now for a very small pony tail, is pulled all the way back and she is wearing a pair of khaki trousers together with a plain, albeit undoubtedly expensive, white shirt with short sleeves to accommodate for the warm, late May weather. David’s first impulse is to drop the flowers, step inside and pin her against the nearest wall, but he reins in his desire and, instead, smiles shyly as he produces the bouquet of flowers from behind his back and offers it to Julia.

“Hi,” he says a little awkwardly. “I’m not sure what exactly I should be apologising for, regarding Friday night, but I’m sure I behaved badly and I hope you accept my apology.”

Julia looks at the flowers, seemingly surprised, but accepts them with a soft “thank you”. Her eyes meet David’s briefly before dropping to the bouquet and, after inspecting it for a moment, her lips curve into a slight smile.

“Lavender,” she notes, raising an eyebrow and then bringing the bouquet up to her face, breathing in its scent.

“I wasn’t sure what you would like,” David admits, running a hand through his hair and then scratching the back of his head. “The whole thing seemed like a better idea at the time.” He’s not sure whether he is referring to the flowers or this entire meeting that, for the time being, seems to have rendered him incapable of stringing sensible words together.

“Well, it’s…” Julia starts before her eyes land on the small envelope attached to the flowers. She glances up at David.

“Don’t…” he starts and then clears his throat, feeling a sudden urge to reach for the envelope and claim it back. “Ah, I was...hoping you would read it later. After I’ve left.”

Julia looks at him quizzically. “Well, now I’m quite curious,” she says, fingers toying with the envelope. “But if you insist.” She drops her hand and turns around, starting to walk deeper into the apartment. “I trust you know your way around,” she quips before turning the corner into the living room.

David watches her go and then follows a few steps behind, sauntering into the living room just as Julia disappears into the kitchen with the flowers. He hears a cupboard open and close and then water running, but his attention is almost instantly fixed on the dining table, which is the only thing that looks different from what he is used to seeing. Instead of being empty or covered with Julia's work, it is now set tastefully for two with an assortment of various cold food items laid out on top: salad, a selection of cheeses, smoked salmon, and what looks like some kind of fancy, artisan bread. 

Of course, he should have known. David feels his heart sink as it dawns on him that he is probably not expected to stay long and that Julia is already waiting for someone else to have lunch with. The only thing missing is a bottle of white wine, probably still chilling in the fridge, waiting for the right company.

When Julia returns with the flowers, now arranged neatly in a vase, David looks at her and thinks morosely what a lucky man John Barrow must be.

“What?” Julia asks, perhaps sensing some kind of a shift in his mood.

“I won’t be long if I’m intruding,” he says, trying not to let his disappointment show. He gestures towards the table. “I see you’re expecting someone.”

Julia looks from him to the table and then back at him, evidently confused. “Yes,” she finally says, stretching the word. “That would be you.” She walks over to the table and places the vase in the middle.

David takes a few steps towards her. “This is...for me?” he asks, incredulous. Then he looks at the table again. “You made all this?” It is beyond anything he could have expected.

“Well, I put it on the table,” Julia replies, waving her hand dismissively. “There were things in the fridge and I took them out.” It’s her turn to look a little awkward and out of place and David revels in the realisation that perhaps this isn’t easy for her either, even if there is no other cause for her discomfort than being caught preparing food.

“If you say so,” he replies. It may well be true that she had everything almost ready in the fridge, but even so, he can see that some amount of preparation must have gone into the presentation and he feels touched knowing that it has been for him. It makes him feel less like an unwelcome intruder.

Having nothing more to say about the food, they lapse into silence and soon the topic that has been hanging in the air since David’s arrival, but which neither of them has yet touched upon, seems no longer possible to avoid.

“About Friday night…” David starts but then trails off to rethink how to approach the subject. After waking up with one of the worst hangovers he ever recalls having, he has had time to clear his head and try to make sense of the details that didn’t previously seem to add up. As a result, there is one question, one suspicion that he hasn’t been able to dismiss. “I have to ask you something,” he says, looking at Julia intently.

“You were drunk and disorderly but you didn’t say anything you need to regret, or if you did it was too unintelligible to be offended by,” Julia replies quickly without waiting for the question and without returning David’s look. “Sit down,” she adds almost in the same breath.

David watches as Julia takes her seat and then follows suit, sitting down on the other side of the table, facing her.

“I realise this is embarrassing to have to ask,” he then continues as he starts helping himself to the offerings on the table, “but you were there and I really have no memory of what happened or…” He pauses and looks at Julia again. “Or how I got home,” he finishes.

This time Julia does meet his gaze and looks at him for a moment while weighing her answer.

“Well, I can’t help you with how you ended up getting so drunk,” she finally starts to explain while picking on a lettuce, “but at some point during the evening, you tried to approach my table and my PPO stopped you.”

“Christ,” David mutters, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry.”

“Perhaps you were slurring insults at me but I really couldn’t tell,” Julia replies with a shrug. Before David can say anything in his defence, she continues: “Either way, you could barely stand up without support or put two intelligible words together, so I took you home.” She looks down at her plate as she speaks, without meeting David’s eyes. “As I saw it, there was really nothing else to be done.”

David pauses to digest the fact that the sneaking suspicion he had been ready to dismiss as wishful thinking had indeed been right: that it had been Julia who had been inside his apartment and left him with water and painkillers. He wants to know more but at the same time is afraid to ask, fearing any additional details might do nothing but embarrass him further.

“You took me home?” he asks at last. “You were in my apartment?”

“Somebody had to,” Julia replies, still not meeting his eyes.

“Julia.” David looks at her. He can see she is vexed by something but can’t quite figure out what it is. “Did I...did I do something inappropriate? Did I try to...” He pauses, horrified by the mere thought. “If I did, I’m so, so sorry. You must know I would never, ever...”

“You didn’t do, or try to do, anything,” Julia interrupts him, finally looking up from her plate. “I already told you you have nothing to apologise for.”

David nods, accepting her words but still feeling that something is not right. Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised, however. The fact that she had had to cut her evening short to take him home was bad enough.

“I still must have ruined your evening,” he concludes. “You were having a lovely time with your boyfriend.”

“I still had a lovely time with him after the detour,” Julia replies testily, picking on her food again. 

David swallows. Of course she had. He takes a few bites in silence even though he has suddenly lost all his appetite.

“Do you love him?” he asks after a while.

Julia lowers her fork and looks at David.

“That’s hardly any of your business,” she replies in a measured tone.

“No, you’re right,” David agrees, deflated. He is not sure what he had been expecting to hear anyway. That she is head over heels in love? As if it would make him feel any better. That she is not? It wouldn’t change the fact that she still chooses to be with him.

“Is it true what the papers say?” he asks then, still not quite able to drop the subject. “That you have been together since the beginning of the year and that he practically lives here?”

Julia takes a bite of her salad and chews on it. 

“He doesn’t live here,” she replies at last, taking a sip of water. “But the rest of it is more or less true.”

“That sounds serious,” David points out. He bites into a piece of bread but can barely bring himself to swallow it down. 

Julia shrugs. “I suppose it is.” 

They lapse into another silence, both focusing on their plates for a while. David mostly only picks on his food, not sure he would be able to eat at all if it weren’t for the fact that Julia had made such an effort to prepare it. He notes, however, that Julia herself seems to be eating better than he has ever seen her do.

After a while, however, she pauses and then looks up, catching David looking at her. “And you?” she asks suddenly. “You and your wife looked lovely together on Friday.” She returns her attention to her food.

“Ex-wife,” David corrects her.

Julia’s head shoots up again. “Ex-wife?” she repeats. 

David wonders at her apparent surprise. Had she not seen that he was clearly living alone, if she had been into his apartment? Or had she simply not cared enough to really pay attention?

“We started the proceedings at the beginning of the year and have only just finalised the...” he starts to explain but comes to a sudden halt when he sees Julia cover her mouth, as if swallowing back bile.

“Julia?” he asks, concerned.

“Excuse me,” she says quickly and stands up, then turns around and stalks out of the room. A moment later, David hears the bathroom door open and close behind her, leaving him alone in the now silent living room.

At first, he thinks of going after her, his concern overriding all other considerations. Then another thought occurs to him, and suddenly he feels his own stomach turn in a way that almost makes him run for the kitchen sink.

He thinks of Julia’s increased appetite and the plain water in her glass, adding it up with what appears to be a sudden bout of nausea, and he can feel his head start to spin. None of those things alone would necessarily mean anything, even though each is a little unusual, but all of them joined together seem to suggest a whole other possibility: that Julia might actually be pregnant.

David stands up as soon as the realisation hits him, his first instinct to flee, but then he pauses and tries to reason away his sudden suspicion. The evidence is circumstantial at best but, still, somehow he cannot convince himself that he isn’t right. Without really thinking, David finds his steps leading him into the kitchen. He opens the fridge and looks for the familiar sign of a bottle of white wine on the door, ready to be popped open after work.

There is nothing there but green juice and another carafe of water, not even an unopened bottle chilling on its side on one of the shelves. David closes the door and backs away from the fridge. His eyes land on the wrappings of the flowers, left on the kitchen counter, and he remembers his letter that he suddenly regrets writing - written as it had been in a vain hope that, despite being framed as an apology, it might still have evoked some response in her.

He looks for the envelope among the discarded cellophane but can’t see it there. In a moment of bitterness, he even looks into the bin, wondering if she might simply have thrown the whole thing away without looking or, worse, thrown it away after looking, but there’s no sign of the letter among the waste either. It has to be still somewhere in the kitchen, but there is no time to look for it now. Besides, he could hardly dispose of it and pretend he never wrote anything when Julia has already seen the envelope. The one thing he had resolved had been to make a good last impression in case he will never have the chance to see Julia again, and that is what he is still determined to do, especially now that it seems she might truly be more lost to him than ever before.

His head still reeling from what he believes he has just uncovered, David returns to the table and sits down, not sure how he can still bring himself to eat. He has just picked up his fork when he hears the bathroom door open and, in a moment, Julia emerges from around the corner, looking as if nothing is amiss.

“I’m sorry,” she says as she takes her seat again and brings her glass of water to her lips. “I had to suddenly use the loo.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” David replies, raising his own water glass as he tries to smile but then realises he must be trying too hard when he catches Julia looking at him oddly.

“I’m sorry about your marriage,” she says after a beat, tucking into her food again. “I thought you and your wife…” She pauses and chews on a bite of cheese.

“Ex-wife,” David takes the opportunity to correct her again. For some reason, it feels important to him to make it clear he is no longer married, as little difference as it probably makes to Julia now.

“Ex-wife,” she repeats in a crisp, controlled tone, as if somehow peeved by the information itself or the fact that he keeps correcting her. “I thought you two seemed happy on Friday,” she remarks after a beat. Then she lowers her fork and looks at David, really looks at him for the first time in what to David feels like forever. 

“Oh, we were,” he replies, holding Julia’s gaze for a moment and then finally shrugging. “Happy to be divorced.”

Julia continues to study him for a beat before lowering her eyes back to her plate. “Well, in that case…” She clears her throat. “I wish you all the best in your...unmarried life.” She lifts her glass close to her lips, looks at it with distaste as if remembering it’s not wine, and then lowers it again with a sigh. “I’m sure you’ll have many takers,” she adds, poking at the salmon on her plate.

David looks at her battle with the dead fish for a moment and tries to think of other women - these potential “takers” that she just mentioned - but it all feels very foreign to him. He wants to say that he doesn’t really care about anyone except her, but he doesn’t want to put Julia in that position now. The letter is bad enough, but at least she will be alone when she reads it, if she reads it, and can interpret it in any way she likes without having to react to it at all.

Besides, the last thing he wants is to see her pity, or hear her explain how much she appreciates his feelings even though she no longer returns them.

“I think I’ll just focus on my children for now,” he replies at last. “Make sure the divorce doesn’t affect them.”

He looks at Julia and doesn’t have to wait long for her to look up from her plate again.

“And how are they?” she asks. “Your children?” Sha pauses to take a sip of her water, this time actually drinking from the glass. “They have taken the news well?”

“They have, actually,” David replies, suddenly remembering how much he enjoys and has missed simply talking with Julia. Without prompting, he decides to go on: “You know we were separated before, and for longer than we were together after it, so I think this is actually just a return to their normal. Only now mummy and daddy aren’t fighting and daddy is doing much better, so it’s actually an improvement.”

He watches Julia and tries to read her expression. A number of emotions seems to flit across her face despite nothing really moving until her lips finally quirk into an almost imperceptible smile.

“I’m glad to hear it,” she says after a beat. “That you are doing better,” she clarifies.

There’s a short silence and then she continues. “And little Charlie?” she asks tentatively, voice a little strained. “How is he doing? It was a pleasure to meet him before.”

David thinks of his son, who hasn’t stopped talking about Julia since their meeting. He can’t help smiling. “He would vote for you if he was old enough.”

The tentative smile on Julia’s face momentarily reaches a warmer glow, which she then reins in by taking another sip of her water. “Doesn’t take after his father then,” she says as she puts the glass down.

David can hear a slight sting in her words but it doesn’t really feel like an accusation. When he catches her eye, he thinks he can see something that almost resembles a teasing glint there.

“Thought you didn’t need me to vote for you,” he says, heart beating a little faster as he breaks off a piece of his bread and pops it into his mouth.

They look at each other for a moment, a delicious tension building in the air between them. David is about to open his mouth again to take them further down the memory lane when he suddenly and unfortunately remembers his earlier suspicion. If he is right, none of this can lead anywhere, ever.

His eyes land on the glass of water in front of Julia, mind weighing the different possibilities. He clears his throat awkwardly, which seems to rouse Julia as well. Her expressions changes abruptly, she suddenly leans back in her chair and then looks down at her plate, which is now almost empty.

“I guess I was hungrier than I thought,” she remarks, changing the subject. 

“It was delicious,” David replies politely even though he could hardly tell how anything had tasted. “Thank you.”

He starts to stand up, picking up his plate out of habit and then reaching for Julia’s as well to help clear the table.

“You don’t have to do that,” she says when he is already halfway to the kitchen. “You’re here as a guest.”

David pauses but doesn’t turn to look at Julia. “Old habits,” he says and then continues to the kitchen where he rinses the plates and cutlery and places them in the dishwasher. He is putting away the flower wrappings when Julia follows with the salad bowl in one hand and the cheese plate in another.

“David, you really don’t have to,” she repeats as she places both the bowl and the plate on the countertop.

He finds himself wondering if John ever helps her around the house, or if they are both simply used to having things done for them. Again, the thought of the two of them together, Julia possibly pregnant with that man's child, invades David’s mind and he feels sick - feels the walls of the kitchen closing in on him.

“Well, if you’re sure,” he starts, looking at Julia’s midsection briefly but unable to see anything that would resemble a bump yet. He returns his eyes to her face. “I guess I had better get going then, before I wear out my welcome,” he says a little awkwardly.

He thinks Julia looks a little taken aback by his words but she recovers quickly.

“Yes, perhaps that’s better,” she agrees, her voice flat. “I’m still behind on work.”

“Must be all that time with the boyfriend,” David can’t help saying. It’s meant as a lame joke but the execution falls flat when his words lack the lightness required. Julia seems to flinch at his comment, though, as if he had hit the mark, but not in a way she finds amusing.

Realising he is probably already wearing out his welcome, and unable to bear the constant reminders that Julia has clearly moved on, he shifts his weight from one foot to another and decides it’s time to leave. There is nothing left for him in this apartment.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he forces himself to say, old formality seeping into his words. “For the lunch and...for everything.” He thinks of reaching for Julia’s hand, but somehow she appears untouchable to him again - out of his reach. So close and yet worlds away.

She doesn’t stop him. Doesn’t ask him to stay. Doesn’t even say anything until he is almost out of the kitchen.

“David, I…” she starts suddenly but doesn’t finish. Instead she smiles, but only with her lips, and sends him off with the usual empty words of two people parting who are about to become strangers to one another. David thinks he would rather have been yelled at.

With one more parting look, he turns around and hurries out of the apartment, swallowing down all the words he would rather have said.

***

Julia stands still for a long moment even after she has heard the door close, trying to make sense of what exactly had just happened. For a moment she had almost fooled herself into thinking they had lapsed back into at least somewhat comfortable conversation, even edging close to something that could almost be considered flirtation, and then suddenly something in David’s mood and behaviour had shifted and they were back to where they had started.

Perhaps he had simply caught himself before giving her any false ideas about where they stood - that despite him now being divorced, he didn’t want to rekindle anything with her. If that was so, Julia thinks, then the message had certainly been received. She feels foolish for having reacted so strongly to the news of his divorce in the first place, but she also feels confident that she had at least almost convincingly managed to pass it off as merely a moment of indisposition.

Sighing, Julia returns to the dining table to pick up the rest of the leftovers, but the clearing up doesn’t keep her mind occupied for long. Her thoughts keep returning to David - divorced and seemingly happy about it and yet...something about it all still doesn’t seem to add up.

Before she can dwell on the thought, though, she is startled by the sound of her phone, vibrating somewhere on the sofa where she had left it next to a report she had been perusing earlier. Half hoping to see David’s name on the screen, she sighs in resignation when instead she sees that the caller is John. Her finger hovers over the screen for a few beats, considering letting it go to voicemail, but then finally swipes to accept the call.

“Hi John,” she greets him without much enthusiasm.

“Hi,” he greets back. “Haven’t heard from you since yesterday.”

“I said I was going to be busy,” Julia replies, undoing her hair and letting her fingers rake through it. “That hasn’t changed. I still need to go through a speech I’m supposed to give on Tuesday and there’s a pile of reports I haven’t as much as looked at yet.”

“Then let me at least take you out to eat before you continue.” John isn’t deterred. “You still have to eat something.”

“I’ve already eaten,” Julia replies, looking at the now empty table. Her eyes fall on the chair that David had occupied. “Maybe later tonight,” she relents, turning her back on the table and the chair. “But I have an early morning so you can’t stay for the night.”

“If you insist,” John replies. “What time will you be ready?”

Julia sighs, not sure if she is in the mood for any company tonight. “I said ‘maybe’,” she reminds him. “I’ll call you later.”

“Julia…” John starts, but she is already walking towards her study, ready to drop the call.

“I’ll call you later,” she repeats. “Bye.”

Without waiting for a response, Julia ends the call and starts to put her phone away but as she tries to slip it into her pocket, it’s met with something that reluctantly yields underneath. She frowns in confusion until realisation hits her: the envelope that had come with David’s flowers and which she had absentmindedly shoved into her pocket to wait for later.

Lowering her phone on the desk instead, Julia fishes out the now slightly crumpled envelope, smoothens the corners, and then opens it with mounting curiosity, recalling that David had specifically asked her to wait until after he had left.

Inside is a piece of paper folded neatly to fit the small envelope. Julia unfolds it slowly with suddenly trembling hands and then devours the few, short lines scribbled on the plain sheet:

_Julia,_

_I’m sorry if I behaved like a fool on Friday. You must know by now how I feel when I see you with another man, even when I have no right to jealousy. It’s a poor excuse, but it’s all I have to offer. You have made it clear that you don’t want me in your life and from now on, I will respect that, and I wish you and your chosen partner every happiness in the world._

_They say that lavender is, among other things, a symbol of love and devotion. I hope the ones in this bouquet will remind you of me as long as they last. My love and devotion will be yours even after the flowers are gone._

_David_

Julia reads the lines over, first once, and then twice, until their meaning finally starts to sink in and she has to put the letter down for a moment to process what she has just read. She stands up and paces the room, her heart beating faster as her mind still tries to rationalise the new information it has just received.

After a while, she returns to the letter and picks it up again. She reads it through one more time, running her fingers over the last two lines, and can no longer fight the warmth that starts to spread through her entire body, more potent than any wine she has known.

Slowly, she sinks back into the chair by the desk and picks up her phone, staring at it for a moment in indecision. Finally, she takes a deep breath and types a short message, which she sends to its recipient with quiet efficiency.

Then she waits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, this is more or less how I imagined David's flowers to look: https://i.etsystatic.com/6725015/r/il/980f09/917958496/il_794xN.917958496_31q2.jpg


	13. What am I to you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Note that the rating for this story has gone up to M  
> 2\. I should probably preface this by saying I generally don't write smut. I've done it maybe twice before and never in as much detail so I apologise if it's cringeworthy.  
> 3\. I _hope_ I will have time to update before I'm going out of town again for a while, but if not, there is a slight chance it might take me a bit longer to update again. I will try my best though.

Not long after leaving Julia’s apartment, David finds himself sitting on a bench overlooking the pond in Battersea Park, only a few minutes’ walk from where he had started. He’s not sure how long he has been sitting there, exactly, absently watching ducks chase each other across the water in what he assumes must be some kind of a mating ritual, when he is roused from his thoughts by the vibration of his phone in his pocket, signaling the arrival of a new message.

He pulls out his phone and looks at the screen, biting his lip when he sees it’s from Julia. Almost afraid to open the message, he wonders if she has already read the letter and, if so, what she might be thinking of it. Preparing himself for the worst, he takes in a deep breath and taps his screen.

The message is brief and uninformative:

_I think we need to talk. Can you come back?_

Just that. No effusions of returned feelings and undying love - not that David had dared to hope for anything of the sort anyway - but no immediate censure of his words either. Just that they needed to talk. Of what, though, David has no idea. For a moment he thinks perhaps Julia wants to let him down gently and tell him in person that she has moved on and expecting a child, now that she knows how he feels, so he doesn’t have to learn it from the papers later. He almost wants to ignore the message or reply that he is already halfway across the town, unable to come back, but still a part of him has to concede that he’s not ready to walk away yet. Why else would he still be sitting in a park just minutes from her home, if not waiting for some final word from her?

So, he taps at his screen again and types a quick response:

_I’ll be there in a few._

Then he leans back on his bench and continues to watch the ducks frolicking in the pond for some time, not wanting to show up at Julia’s doorstop quite as quickly as his distance from the house would easily have allowed him to.

Eventually, though, he does make his way back to the street and to Overstrand Mansions where the guard simply nods and lets him pass again. David mutters a quick ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’, steps in and rings the doorbell for the second time that day. He is prepared to wait, but this time it seems to take almost no time at all before the door is yanked open and he is face to face with Julia again. She looks much the same as earlier, except now the small ponytail is gone and her hair is loose and untamed, unlike David has ever seen it before.

They both look at each other for a moment across the threshold as palpable tension rises between them. Without a word, Julia takes a step back, motions for David to step in, and then closes the door behind him.

“I take it you read the letter,” David says at last, waiting for whatever it is that he has been summoned for. He knows the look in Julia’s eyes - has seen it before over the threshold of their adjoining rooms at the Blackwood hotel - and he cannot help feeling his skin prickle in anticipation even though he rationally doesn’t know what to make of that look here and now.

“I read it,” she replies before David can come to any conclusion. She studies him for a moment and then continues: “Did you mean what you wrote?”

David steps forward and she takes a step back, their eyes never leaving each other’s.

“Every word,” he says.

“All this time?” Julia asks weakly, her voice coming out as barely more than a breath.

“All this time,” David confirms. Perhaps it’s too late to make any difference now, but he wants her to know he could have been hers if she had wanted him.

Before he can say anything more, Julia’s hand rises up to his chest and she bunches the fabric of his shirt into her fist, tugging him towards her. As signals go, it’s a pretty clear one, and David responds to it by stepping closer as he shrugs off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor.

There are so many questions he should be asking, not least of all whether any of this means anything more than that she is pregnant and horny and sexually unsatisfied by her current partner, but he is not about to break off whatever this is by saying anything that might make her reconsider. If this is Julia wanting to use him after discovering the full extent of the power she still holds over him, then he is ready to be used. It might break him into pieces later, but right now he cannot think beyond wanting to touch every inch of her willing body, to feel her and to fill her in every imaginable way.

“Where?” he asks, cupping her chin as he backs her against the nearest wall. His lips hover close to hers but he doesn’t allow himself the pleasure of touching them yet.

“Surprise me,” she breathes, letting go of David’s shirt. She leans forward in an attempt to capture David’s lips, but he moves his head back to avert the kiss, still delaying gratification. Instead, he grabs her by the waist and flips her around to face the wall, using one hand to pin one of Julia’s arms to the wall above her head, while sliding his other hand from her waist to her still flat stomach. Then he presses his front against her bottom and lets her feel his already growing erection before freeing the top button of her trousers and slipping his hand in to sample the state of her arousal.

He feels Julia buck impatiently against his fingers as he parts her folds and he responds by giving her a few calculated strokes until he can feel her growing slickness on his fingers.

“Good girl,” he mutters against her ear and finally allows his lips and tongue a taste of her skin as he moves to suck on her neck.

“You’re going to mark me?” Julia pants, turning her head a little and then gasping as David delivers another stroke between her legs.

“Is that a problem?” he growls as he lifts his head enough for his mouth to break from her skin. He tries not to think of Julia in bed with John, but smirks at the thought that the marks he is about to leave on her body are going to be visible later to anyone who gets to see her naked.

“Did I tell you to stop?” Julia’s voice brings him back to the present. As she hasn’t directly answered his question, he decides to take it as quiet approval and lowers his mouth back to her neck to finish what he had started.

As he sucks, he thinks of his next move. Hand still nestled between Julia’s legs, he continues to massage her slowly and considers briefly how easy it would be to divest her of her trousers, unbuckle his belt, unzip his jeans, and have her right here against the wall - perhaps flip her around again before she comes just so he can see her face.

His hand pauses. As tempting as that option is, it would all be over too soon.

Despite Julia’s whimper of protest, he pulls his hand away and steps back, leaving enough room between them for Julia to turn back to face him. As she does so, she leans briefly against the wall and licks her lips, eyes challenging him to continue.

“Your hair is longer,” he says what he has been wanting to say for a while.

She raises an eyebrow, looks playfully down where David’s hand has just been and then up at his face, the implication of her unspoken question clear.

“I meant on your head,” he clarifies, mouth twitching into an amused smile. “I like it.”

No longer able to resist kissing that teasing smirk off Julia’s lips, David steps forward again until their bodies are almost touching. He sinks his fingers into her hair and cradles her head, and this time when Julia leans forward, he meets her halfway. With neither of them holding back, their lips crash against each other with such force that David instinctively moves his other hand down to Julia’s back to move her away from the wall and keep her from bumping too hard against it. At the same time, he can feel her hands on the waist of his jeans, impatiently untucking his shirt until her palms find their way underneath it.

Without breaking away from the deepening kiss, David starts unbuttoning his shirt from the top and soon finds Julia’s fingers joining him in the quest of ridding him of that garment. He grins against her mouth and sucks her lower lip briefly between his teeth before letting Julia finish off the buttons. Before she can remove the shirt, however, he places his hands on her hips and starts backing her away from the foyer, hips grinding against hips as he ushers her, back first, towards the living room.

“Corridor not good enough for you?” Julia mumbles against his mouth as his tongue slides across her lips.

“What, you want to go back?” David asks, moving to kiss Julia’s jaw, his teeth grazing her skin until she gasps.

“I want you to fuck me,” she breathes. “I really don’t care where.” She tugs at his shirt again, this time intent on removing it, and David doesn’t resist, pausing his ministrations for long enough to let the shirt fall to the floor too.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, feeling a twitch in the front of his jeans, which is already starting to feel uncomfortably tight. He considers removing Julia’s shirt, but is held back by the uncertainty of how she might react to him exposing her burned skin. He longs to run his fingers across every scar in loving worship of the skin that, though now marred, has held her together and whole for him to still hold - but he is afraid that it’s not what Julia wants from him. He is afraid of losing the momentum that is already building up.

“David?” He hears Julia’s voice, feels her hand on his face, drawing him back to the present. “If you don’t want to…”

He takes her hand and guides it to his mouth, kissing the tips of her fingers. “I want to,” he replies simply. He lets go of her hand and tucks a loose bit of hair behind her ear, lowering his lips to her ear next. “I want to,” he repeats. “I want _you_.” He backs her slowly against the now empty dining table and then fully unzips her trousers. He takes Julia’s hand, the same one he has just kissed, and starts guiding it down until she catches on to his intention.

She looks at him intently and doesn’t break eye contact as she slips her hand down the front of her pants and lets out a soft moan as her fingers reach their target.

David can feel himself grow harder by simply watching Julia move her hand slowly between her legs. He takes a step back to appreciate the view but, unable to remain idle for long, he soon steps forward again and pulls her into a hungry kiss while his other hand sneaks down to join Julia’s between her legs.

“And here I thought you were going to make me do all the hard work,” she gasps as he presses his hand over Julia’s, rougher and more demanding than before. He can feel her wetness dripping down through the cracks between her fingers and he almost groans as he presses his forehead against hers, their shaky breaths mingling in the air between them.

“Jesus, Julia,” he mutters, bucking his hips to where their hands are joined over her core.

“Speaking of hard…” she says, lips curving into a grin as she looks down at the bulge still contained within David’s jeans. She moves her free hand to his belt and starts fumbling with it while David frees his other hand from the back of Julia’s neck to join the effort.

Her fingers prove to be more nimble than his and with impressive alacrity she has soon freed him of both the belt and the top button of his jeans. There, fingers hovering over the zipper, she pauses and gives David an arch look. Then, instead of freeing him, she lets her nails scrape the harsh fabric of the jeans over his cock, sending a dangerous pulse of pleasure through his already throbbing member.

“Julia…” he warns her.

“Just checking,” she smirks, finally pulling at the zipper and looking down at the protruding tent created by his boxers that still remain in the way. She lets out a humming sound somewhere in the back of her throat that David finds almost unbearably sexy and then her eyes flick to his face just as her hand moves to cup him through his underwear.

He grinds his teeth in an effort to control himself and to keep his hips from moving as Julia runs her fingers along his length, as if reacquainting herself with the equipment. She doesn’t look displeased with what she finds.

To shift his focus, David puts to use the hand still between Julia's legs and, slipping between her fingers, he dips first one and then another digit into her folds, eliciting a quick intake of breath from Julia. It seems to be the last straw. He feels Julia’s hand slip away from underneath his touch, leaving him in sole control of her core while she yanks down both his jeans and boxers to finally free him fully. One hand grasping his girth, she looks up at David again and then wiggles herself against his fingers before brushing her lips against his mouth, wordlessly letting him know that she is ready for him.

David smiles against her mouth, nibbles at her lower lip in response and then lets his thumb brush against her clitoris as he pulls his fingers out, eliciting another moan from Julia that he swallows into a kiss as he gives her another rub. Then, without a word, he grabs hold of her waist and lifts her to sit on the table, kneeling down to pull at her trousers and underwear until they fall to the floor. With hands on her knees, spreading her legs further apart, he then slowly kisses his way back up to her inner thighs, unable to resist briefly teasing her dripping core with his tongue before standing up again with a satisfied smirk adorning his face, his own erection in full salute.

She responds to his look by biting her lip as she inches closer to the edge of the table, her eyes, dark with lust, staring deep into his as she wraps her now bare legs around his lower back, pulling him closer. He lowers his hands onto her thighs, giving both an appreciative squeeze before moving down to her buttocks and finally lifting her off the table.

“My strong man,” Julia whispers into his ear, half teasing, holding onto his shoulders as David topples two steps backwards to adjust to her weight. When he finds his footing, she reaches down and lets her fingers circle his cock again, this time to guide him in as he lowers her onto himself.

David can barely suppress a groan when his tip finally enters her and he can feel the pressure of her walls slowly engulf his full length as they both adjust to the exquisite sensation of being joined once more. For a moment David thinks he could stay in this state forever, being buried inside Julia while feeling her full weight on his arms, never moving again, but then he feels Julia gently, tentatively roll her hips towards him and suddenly the need to feel more of that friction overrides everything else. 

He tightens his hold of Julia’s bottom, considers for a moment lowering her back to the table and simply pounding away into her with wild abandon, but then he changes his mind before he can carry out the plan. His stalling earns him a quizzical look from Julia and he gives her a reassuring kiss, first to her cheek and then to her lips, before starting to move them towards the nearest armchair.

There, taking support of the chair, he lowers them both down until he is fully seated on the edge, with Julia now straddling him as he leans back, ready to handle the reins over to her. She raises her eyebrow at this unexpected transfer of power but doesn’t say anything, only moving her hands from his shoulders to cup his face and then leaning forward to kiss him as she starts slowly moving her hips.

“Oh god, Julia,” he mutters against her open mouth, hands sliding up to her waist as he thrusts his hips to meet hers, the pleasure of the plunge so intense that for a second he fears an embarrassingly quick resolution to their tryst. Perhaps sensing his need to regroup, though, Julia halts her movement and waits, eyes reading him carefully as her fingers slide from his face to his nape. With her forehead pressed against his, she is close enough that David can feel her hot breaths on his face and suddenly he feels the sense of bursting shift from this groin to his wildly beating heart. He almost blurts out an “I love you,” but settles for simply claiming her lips for another kiss.

After a moment, she moves again and David groans, but this time he is ready to meet the rolling of her hips with equal thrusts of his own. Once started, they fall almost seamlessly into the pace that Julia sets for them, almost agonizingly slow at first, but deeply intense as their eyes bore into one another’s, breaths mingling in the hot air between them while only their hips move in perfect unison, her hands stilled at his shoulders, and his at her waist.

There is no need for words. Gradually they start to pick up the pace, as if of a mutual, unspoken decision, and when the breaths through Julia’s parted lips grow more erratic, her eyes less focused, David knows without a single utterance that she is close to reaching her culmination.

Sliding his hands lower to her hips and tightening his grip, he thrusts into her with everything he has left in him, eliciting a sharp gasp followed by a moan from Julia as her nails dig into his back, her walls tightening around him. Barely able to keep himself from spilling inside her at once, he sits up to adjust their angle and continues to thrust as she rides him with almost desperate abandon until it’s impossible to tell where she ends and he begins, where her moans fade into his grunts, his breathing into her gasps.

He feels her hand find his before she comes, fingers intertwining over her thigh just before her head rolls back and he can feel the waves of her pleasure crash into him. He thinks he can hear his name in the gasp that escapes her lips as she comes and it’s that sound, almost like an invitation, that finally spurs him over the edge as well and makes him spill into her with a deep, satisfied groan while she rides out the remnants of her own orgasm on his climax.

When they are both finally done, David lets his hands move slowly up under Julia’s shirt, dampened with sweat, and settles his palms on her lower back, continuing to hold her close as they still rock together in a lazy, feeble rhythm, completely spent but not yet ready to relinquish their physical connection. He doesn’t want to think yet of what any of this means - isn’t ready to face the possibility that this might not be more than a one-off booty call, or the start of another illicit affair that can only tear him apart. All he can focus on is the feel of Julia on him and around him, sweaty skin on sweaty skin.

At last he feels Julia stir in his lap and, as she moves her hips to adjust her position, their already weakened bodily connection comes to its natural end and he slips out of her with quiet resignation. Not ready to completely let go of her yet, though, David leans in one more time to capture her lips and is gratified to meet with a willing response from Julia.

“This isn’t really how I pictured my afternoon,” she mutters against his mouth, fingers grazing his jaw. “But I’m not complaining.”

“I don’t remember you complaining before, either,” David replies, feeling a little cocky knowing he has left her satisfied. “Oi!” he then yelps as she pinches his arm in response.

The ensuing giggles soon subsiding, they fall silent for a moment and David thinks he can sense a shift in the air. Without a word, Julia moves her hands to his bare chest and starts running her palms slowly over his skin, eyes following her hands as she seems to lose herself in her own thoughts.

“Julia,” David speaks at last, gently calling her back to the present. 

Julia’s eyes fly back to his face as her hands pause on his chest. David takes a deep breath. He’s still not sure he is ready for this conversation, but he needs to know what to prepare himself for.

“What am I to you?” he asks, looking deep into Julia’s eyes in search of the answer.

She looks at him as if not quite understanding the question. “What you are to me?” she returns the words back at him.

“I will be whatever you want me to be,” he hastens to explain, fingers grazing the skin of her arm. “But I need to know what that is.”

He can see tears pooling in Julia’s eyes but doesn’t know how to interpret them. Then she cups his face and leans forward to kiss him again. He captures her lips and savours the salty taste of her mouth, whether caused by sweat or tears, he doesn’t know, until she pulls away.

When she doesn’t immediately speak, he feels another question burning inside him that refuses to be silenced.

“This man, John,” he says, hating to even speak out his name. He slips his hand under her shirt again, laying her palm flat on her stomach and caressing it softly until he sees something in Julia’s expression shift. She looks pained, suddenly, as if burned by his touch.

David feels his earlier dread return in full force as he removes his hand and looks at Julia.

“Are you pregnant?” he blurts out, holding his breath. “With his child?”

She looks at him, stunned at first, and then releases her breath as if she had expected him to say something else.

“With _his_ child?” she repeats and her stress on the word ‘his’ makes David frown in confusion. He looks at her for a moment, trying to make sense of it all.

“Somebody else’s child, then?” he finally asks uncertainly, his head spinning as he wonders if she is keeping someone else on the side too.

“Jesus, David, no,” Julia replies, suddenly removing herself from his lap. She takes a few directionless steps around the room, runs a hand through her hair, and then pauses to look at David again. “Why on earth would you think I’m pregnant _now_?”


End file.
